


Christmas on Stark Mountain

by debwalsh



Series: I Think I Wanna Marry You [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Christmas, Christmas Party, First Christmas, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: In this sequel to "Start Again," Steve and Bucky have been working gradually toward developing their relationship, but their Christmas plans are overruled when Tony Stark decides that everyone - and he means everyone - needs to spend their holidays on his mountain, at the lodge where Steve lives as artist in residence.How can two stupid boys in love take their relationship to the next level when all of their well-meaning friends are standing in the way?16Jul17 - Chapter 9, Hosanna in the Highest, is posted!  The story is now complete!Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Blessed Kwanzaa, Blessed Solstice, and happy whatever other holiday you may celebrate.  Here's my gift to you - a bit of WinterShield on a winter's night.





	1. Go Tell It On the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, I have works in progress! But I've been trying to write this story the past two Christmases with no luck. And just this weekend, the piece I needed suddenly stood up and said, "Hello, use me to get out of that plot hole!" So, there you are. And here we are.
> 
> If you haven't read the first story, Start Again, you really should go check it out first before starting this story. Plus, I'm pretty proud of it - my first modern day AU. I recently reread it to try to jumpstart this story, and I gotta say, I do kinda love it. And I promise, there is more coming in my other WIPs as well as my other universes. I gots so many ideas! And now that the holiday crud seems to be passing out of my system after two weeks of hacking up a lung and sneezing out my brains, I'm finally able to take advantage of my vacation and WRITE!

It was surprising, really. How seamlessly their lives adapted to a new locale, a new routine, a new reality.

In retrospect, he knew he’d been a complete and total asshole, unfair to both himself and, well, everyone he knew. Everyone he loved. Yeah, just … just _everyone_.

And what was most amazing was that everyone had indulged him, everyone had forgiven him. And ultimately, every last one of them had called him on his shit so he could get his head out of his ass to see what everyone else had come to recognize.

Bucky Barnes loved him.

And he loved Bucky Barnes.

And it was weird, really, to live here, in the big house at the top of the mountain, with the unimpeded 360 view of the neighboring peaks, the protective ring of old growth and new perimeter defenses, the clear shot in case of attack … but he had to learn to stop thinking that way, to stop thinking strategically, defensively.

Like Bucky’d said, he needed to come home, to get his head out of the battlefield, and get himself back to where his heart was. Where he could be with Bucky, 100%, not the bits and pieces he’d allowed himself so far.

Bucky deserved more than that.

He deserved more than that.

And so he was resolved. 

_Christmas._

&&&

When Bucky’d decided to chuck New York City for the rugged landscape and charming villages of upstate New York, the transition had been surprisingly easy. Sure, he’d had to trade in easy access to Seattle-sourced fancy caffeinated brews, but he’d traded up to fresh, strong coffee served with a smile and genuine friendship, at a pace that unjangled his nerves, gradually unknotting his muscles, and soothing his shattered soul.

Knitting him back into a whole person again. A person with a job that allowed him to haul up stakes and relocate without repercussion, a person with an ex-lover for a roommate who encouraged him to pursue his ex-roommate as his lover, a person who found friendship in unexpected places with unexpected people, a person who had hope. _So much hope_ …

So he’d moved to the little village at the foot of Tony Stark’s mountain, with the bar with the secret poker game that welcomed Joe Rocco and Edwin Jarvis as brothers. It was the little village with the bookstore that invited him to do readings once a month, readings of short stories he’d suddenly found he had the time and will and inspiration to write. It was the little village that had welcomed him and Connie and Joe to live in a little rented house, on the quiet Main Street, with a garden in the back, and a farmer’s porch in the front. It was the little village whose sky glittered with stars that stretched overhead like diamond dust caught in the breeze, clear and crisp and not lost to the city’s light pollution.

It was the little village where Steve Rogers came down from the mountain to shop, to mail his art from the post office, to grab a coffee. It’s where he came down from the mountain to meet him for drinks, a bucket of clams, a pile of wings, a turn around the dance floor, hurried kisses and frantic groping in the gents’, the knowing glances and encouraging smiles of the locals who’d accepted them both into their hearts.

It was the little village that had become home so fast he’d found it shocking, and yet reassuring that for all his wandering, he’d finally found a place to call home.

And the fact that Steve was nearby and willing to see him, willing to spend time with him, willing to give them a real try, well … there was no way he was going to miss the opportunity of his lifetime. 

Home or not, this was where he needed to be.

Because he loved Steve Rogers. From the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, with every cell in his body, every atom, sub-atomic particle, every shred of his soul, and every moment of his life, he loved Steve Rogers.

And Steve Rogers loved him.

Steve Rogers loved _him_.

And Bucky would do all he could to be worthy of that love, to cherish and nurture and encourage it to grow, for the long run, for the gold, for the end of the line and beyond. For keeps.

Because Steve deserved that.

Hell, because _he_ deserved that.

And so he was resolved.

_Christmas._

&&&

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, Tony, I just wasn’t expecting you. I mean, Jarvis said you were vacationing in Switzerland this year –“

“Yeah. Changed my mind. Why fly to another country with superb cuisine, crystal clear air, and fabulous vistas when I could have my own, and Ana’s cooking, too? Plus, bonus, we don’t see much of you now you’re out in the sticks, Rogers. Pep misses your face. I do, too. I mentioned it to Pegs, and well, it just grew from there.” Tony chuckled across the phone line, and Steve felt his heart sinking low in the west. He’d been planning an intimate holiday with Bucky – emphasis on the intimate – and now Tony had announced his plans to spend the holidays at the lodge. Granted, the property belonged to Tony, as did the mountain and its surrounding neighbors, plus the resort on the next peak, but still … Steve had had _plans_.

“Um, Tony … how many people are coming to the lodge for Christmas?”

“Everyone,” he could hear the shrug in Tony’s voice, and Steve felt something shrivel inside.

“Everyone?” he repeated, voice cracking like it hadn’t done since he was eighteen.

“Everyone. Why? Did you have a tryst planned? Tell me you’ve tapped that Barnes ass and you’ve christened every surface in the lodge. No, that would piss Ana off, and besides Pepper, she’s the last person on earth I’d want angry at me. She has ways of punishing you that you’ll never see coming. I’m sure she worked in intelligence before she settled down to become Mrs. Jarvis.”

“I’m not so sure she’s stopped,” Steve muttered, thinking of how Mrs. Jarvis – Ana, as she always insisted he call her – always seemed to know everything before Steve did. Right down to which nights Buck would stay over, what time he was arriving, even when he had to be on the road for some meeting or other with his publishing house. Ana was a force of nature, and Steve agreed whole-heartedly – she was not someone he wanted to make angry.

And as for tapping and christening … well, Buck stayed over every so often, and more than once they’d shared a bed, kissing and cuddling and spooning. But so far Bucky’d been honoring Steve’s request to go slow, and they’d never gone further than kissing – lots of kissing, all kinds of kissing, filthy, spit-swapping, tongues down each other’s throats kissing. And cuddling and spooning. But other than a little rutting that they’d both agreed was too much too soon, that’s where things always ended. And Steve was honestly getting a little tired of Bucky being a gentleman, and he wanted to be lucky with something a little more anthropomorphic than his hand. And yeah, his plans for Christmas included tapping and christening, but not with a house full of every single person he knew. Nope, there would be no tapping, and definitely no christening.

“No need to worry,” he answered Tony with a definite morose undertone in his voice. “We haven’t.”

“Haven’t … ?” Tony prompted.

“Haven’t done anything. Yet.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?”

“But you were planning. You really did have a tryst planned, didn’t you, Steve. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Well, I thought it would be fun to get the band back together, to have everyone share the holidays –“

“No, no, you’re right, Tony. It’ll be great. I haven’t seen any of the team since you all were up here –“

“At the intervention,” Tony supplied quietly.

“At the intervention. Yeah. But, y’know, it did get us talking again. And I can’t complain – things are good between us.”

“But they coulda been better. If I wasn’t filling the house with all your friends who want to see you and Barnes happy. Together. In a biblical way.”

“Um, yeah.”

“I’d reschedule, but I’ve already got the plane en route to pick everyone up. Ana’s already got some help in from the village to pitch in with the cooking. The wheels are in motion, so to speak –“

“Nah, it’s fine, Tony. I think I can honestly say that neither of us is going anywhere. We’ll have time.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks for letting me know. I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to help get the place ready, okay?”

“Yeah, I figured I’d better give you some advance warning. Woulda sucked if we all showed up and you had your dick down Barnes’s throat.”

“Thanks for the visual, Tone.”

“Yeah, sorry, I guess that’s kinda unfair, huh? Seeing as how … but, hey, he’s got a house, right?”

“With two roommates – his ex, Connie, and her Dad, Joe.”

“Who can stay at the lodge while you christen his house. It’s a win-win, Rogers. You know how Jarvis loves Joe. And Pep and Connie seriously scare me – put them together with Carter and Romanoff, and you’ve got the perfect storm of awesomeness. Those ladies could take over the world.”

“They probably should,” Steve agreed. “But staying at Buck’s while all our friends are here … yeah, I don’t see the two of us getting mercilessly teased over our sex lives the minute we set foot on the mountain. Not seeing much of a win there, Tony.”

“Barnes’s dick. Wherever it is you want it. Yours wherever he wants it. You don’t see the upside there?”

“Not when I gotta face Dugan and Morita after. Not for our first time, anyway. I kinda want it to be – “

“Special?”

“Not a joke,” Steve corrected him. “And not public. This is something that’s just between us.”

“I really am sorry, Steve. But hey, we’ll have fun. The team likes Barnes. And maybe this trip, we can start making plans for a real wedding. You know that Pepper wants to throw you the best bash. And me? I’m all about the bachelor party. Parties, there are two of you –“

“And I’m off,” Steve interrupted with a half-shudder, half laugh. “When are you due in?”

“Should have everybody collected, the jet serviced and refueled and ready to land by tomorrow evening. Hey, you’ve got one night of privacy left – maybe you should try to make it count.” 

“Maybe I would be able to if you’d given me a week’s notice. Buck’s teaching an adult creative writing course at the community center tonight. I’m likely to see you before I get to see him again.”

“Shit, Steve, now I’m really feeling bad. It’ll pass. See you tomorrow night.”

And with that, Tony Stark severed the connection, leaving Steve to stare at the phone in his hand before he tossed it on the desk and sighed.

_So much for Christmas._

&&&

“No way, _really_?”

The disappointment in Bucky’s voice cut through Steve. He felt it too. He wondered if Bucky had been making similar plans to what Steve had, if they’d been in synch about finally taking their relationship a little further. He frowned at the phone, unsure if he should bring it up. What if he hadn’t been?

What if … well, what if Bucky wasn’t all that interested in having sex with Steve? What if that’s why Bucky had always been agreeable when Steve had put the brakes on?

He’d get by if that was the case. He knew that Bucky liked sex, but he also knew that Bucky could do without if he didn’t feel it was right. And as for Steve, well, Steve was okay with sex, but he’d never felt any overpowering need for it. He’d always chalked that up to needing the right partner, not just any partner. He’d always thought that would be Bucky, but if Buck really wasn’t interested, he was okay with it. So long as he got to keep him in all the other ways …

“Steve, Steve, you okay, baby? Look, I know you don’t always like having a crowd. If you want, you could stay at my place – Connie and Joe are definitely gonna want to be up at the big house with everybody visiting, so it’d be quieter here. If you wanted to, y’know, escape or somethin’.”

“Or somethin’?” 

“Well, we’d have more privacy here. _You’d_ have more privacy, I mean. That is, if you wanted it. It’s okay if you don’t, but if you did, I mean, if you wanted some quiet –“

“Would that quiet include sharin’ a bed, Barnes?” Steve’s eyes widened at his own boldness, and he froze as he waited for Bucky’s answer.

“Well, we have the guest room if you wanted it, but … but if you wanted to share my bed I sure as hell wouldn’t kick you out, you know that, Steve. I like wakin’ up to your ugly mug. I … kinda love falling asleep in your arms, too, y’know,” Bucky added, his voice going soft and quiet, the words meant just for Steve and no one else. Intimate, conspiratorial. Steve felt hope lurch in his chest, felt the freeze melt away.

“’S’that all we’d do?” Steve surprised himself by saying, unashamed of the naked longing he could hear in his own voice.

There was a gasp and then silence. “We’d do whatever you wanted, baby. _Anything_ you wanted,” Bucky answered in a voice that was wrecked with sudden emotion.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Steve answered with a deep, throaty chuckle, feeling himself suddenly lighter, able to breathe again where he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “I think I wanna be here when everybody gets in, love it if you were here, too, Buck. And not in the guest room you use sometimes. With me. But as for what I wanna do … _with you_ … let’s play it by ear. We can always take a trip into town if it gets too much.”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, his voice still raspy and so fucking sexy sounding, Steve had the sudden need to press the heel of his hand against the swelling in his crotch. “You’re in charge, _Captain_. Nothing matters to me so long as I get to spend Christmas with my best guy. My only guy,” he added softly, gently.

“Okay,” Steve agreed right back. “Pack for a coupla days, anyway. Although, you probably got enough stuff here already.”

“Not my lucky socks. And I’m gonna have to reorganize my present plans. Good thing I hadn’t hit the post office yet – shit, I may have to do this in a coupla trips – we’ll use my room to stage the gifts, okay?”

“Your room, huh?”

“It’s the room with my stuff that I sometimes sleep in. My room.”

“Okay. Sure you can’t cancel your class tonight? It’s the last free night before the hoardes descend.”

Again, that gasp and then silence, then a very regretful response. “Mrs. Sloan would be brokenhearted if she didn’t get to present her story. She’s been working hard on it all week. And I think Ms. Jameson might be equally disappointed to miss it.”

“Oh, is that how it is?”

“Think so. I might have a future as a Cupid, baby.”

“I’d like to see you with wings and a cute little tushie. Maybe you could model the outfit for me sometime.”

“Why, Mr. Rogers, you vixen, you. I’ll take a raincheck, so long as I get to see you model somethin’ equally … promising.”

“Promise,” Steve said slyly. “Soon’s we have the chance, Buck, I got a lot I wanna show you.”

“Yeah? You’re killin’ me here, Rogers!”

“Yeah? Good. Think of me while you’re molding young minds there, Barnes.”

“It’s adult education. Pretty sure if I think of you like I’m thinkin’ right now, everyone in the class is gonna notice. You’re a cruel man, Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. Now let me get off the phone and take a cold shower before I show up at the library with a stiffy. But I like the way you’re thinkin’, baby. I know it’ll be worth the wait,” Buck’s voice dropped back to that deep, raspy, sexy register. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve whispered, smiling, as he heard that little gasp, pleased this time, and the click of the call ending.

Steve felt warmth settle around him like a comfortable fuzzy blanket, wrapping him in a sense of calm and security he hadn’t realized he’d been lacking.

Okay, so Tony’s impromptu holiday gathering was inconveniently timed. But he and Buck? They were gonna be okay. And Steve felt they were on the same wavelength, too, about taking their relationship into a more physical direction. And he no longer felt nervous or anxious … he felt excitement. 

He felt … like a man in love, with a future worth having.

But first, there were the hoardes to deal with …

&&&


	2. Do You Hear What I Hear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for the holiday hoarde continue at Stark Manor. Steve lets his feelings known to Bucky, and Ana Jarvis has some choice insights regarding stupid boys in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to finally get this story written. I think with this chapter, we're maybe a third of the way through the story, but you know how accurate my estimates often are! Stick with me and the boys. I'm kind of in love with a scene that will be coming up in a future chapter - can't wait to share it with you!

“Put that over there,” Ana Jarvis commanded sweetly, pointing to an area of her pantry dedicated to the raw materials for baked miracles. She watched fondly as Bucky shifted the massive container of specialized flour that the granary ground just for her. None of this modern, tasteless stuff that ended up on shop shelves for Mrs. Ana Jarvis – she had standards, and she wasn’t about to stint on them, no matter the wilderness Mr. Jarvis lumbered her with, thank you very much.

And the boys were so nice, really. Both so very, very pretty, so willing and eager to assist, so easy to pay in sweets and cakes. So very, very nice to watch with their muscles and tight pants and thoroughly delicious longing looks they kept casting each other. Seriously, this was better than television. 

And truth be told, Ana always did have a bit of a thing for a well-rounded posterior filling out well-tailored trousers. It was very much the first thing she’d noticed about Mr. Jarvis all those years ago – the very distinctive way his well-muscled behind was framed by the bespoke trousers of his custom-made suit, the way the muscles bunched and smoothed, tensed and relaxed under the fine fabric stretched over his equally fine ass. He still had a fine ass, a quality she valued highly in the men with whom she surrounded herself. She also appreciated fine couture on her men, but she understood that out here in the wilds of New York, Paris might not readily adapt itself to the rural life. Skinny jeans would have to do. And it did quite well across Bucky’s luscious caboose. 

A quick glance at Steve’s face confirmed she wasn’t the only connoisseur of fine behinds in this room, either. But when she let her gaze wander toward the young ladies from the village, she frowned. They were similarly enthralled, but unlike Steve, they had work to do, work they were being paid to provide. 

She snapped her fingers at the girls, titching loudly at them to herd them back to their work, preparing ingredients to be combined into the marvels she would serve the house to be filled with Master Tony and Steve’s friends. She couldn’t help the smile that slid, unbidden, across her lips. Ana Jarvis was an artist in the kitchen, and she was lucky enough to truly enjoy her art. It was all the sweeter when she had many mouths to feed, especially when those mouths belonged to people who filled her Tony’s life with joy. Howard and Maria had entrusted him into hers and Mr. Jarvis’s care when they passed so many years ago, and it didn’t matter if he was an adult staring at the ass end of 50 – he’d always be her little Tony. Whether he liked it or not, she didn’t really care. And she was going to fatten him up, and his lovely Pepper, too. Her mind danced with fantasies of the meals she’d prepare in the coming days, the treats and confections. But only if these village girls did their part, preparing what they could before they had to return home ahead of the storm looming on the horizon.

And that was why Bucky was busy in her pantry, shifting containers and making the heavy crocks and buckets accessible for smaller forms. Steve had been helping, but after he’d dropped the third earthenware jug of her favorite oil, she’d called a halt to his assistance. He was pretty, she’d give him that, and she was inordinately fond of the boy. And he was a valued asset around the estate, always pitching in to help even as she and Mr. Jarvis would try to convince him that he was a guest. But when Bucky was around, he was all left feet and too many thumbs, and disaster inevitably followed in his wake. She could only hope that when he pulled his very handsome head out of his very shapely ass, he came out rightside up and stayed that way. Because she had no doubt that he and Bucky were meant to be together, and it was only Steve’s natural cussedness that kept them apart. One glance at Bucky, and anyone would know how ready the boy was to tap that Rogers ass. But in the meantime, Bucky’s presence made Steve unnaturally nervous and awkward, and not in a remotely endearing way if you asked Ana. Bucky’s mileage may vary wildly, considering the adoring glances he kept tossing over his shoulder at Steve.

Really, she should just remand them both to Steve’s room, and lock them up there until they did the deed, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with the relentless pining any longer. And she’d be lying if she claimed the idea didn’t appeal to her, just a tiny bit. Okay, maybe a lot a lot bit. She was beginning to believe there was such a thing as death by pining.

Her inner diatribe was interrupted by one of the young women standing next to her and clearing her throat pointedly. Oh. That probably wasn’t the first time she’d done that. In her defense, Bucky Barnes’s ass was really quite spectacular, one for the ages, even.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jarvis, but that was my Dad. He’s not going to be able to come pick us up this evening after all.”

“Well, you’ll just have to stay over then,” she shrugged. “We have plenty of room, and then you can get get an early start with the meal prep in the morning.”

“Sorry, Mrs. J, no can do. Neither of us brought anything to wear tomorrow, and we’re both expected home for dinner. _Somebody’s_ gonna have to give us a ride home.”

“But, Mr. Jarvis is already in town. He’s not due back until late,” Ana protested, turning from her study of Bucky’s assets to look at the teenager who stared earnestly at her. “I don’t have a way to get you back to town tonight.”

At that, the girl, Leslye something, turned her gaze toward Bucky and lifted her eyebrows meaningfully. Hopefully, even. “Is Mr. Barnes staying overnight?”

“I’m afraid I really don’t know, Leslye. Mr. Barnes doesn’t work for me, he’s only doing me a favor –“

“And Mr. Barnes is standing right here. Whaddya need?”

“Ride back to town this evening, after we’re done for the day for Mrs. Jarvis?” Leslye asked hopefully.

“Well, I was planning to do another run back to bring the rest of my presents up, and then, yeah, I am staying over. But you’re in luck, I was already planning to go back to town, but I was hoping to do that before dark. Can you spare them that soon, Mrs. J?”

She smiled at him. He had such lovely manners to go with the rest of him. If she were thirty years younger, and if she weren’t so very fond of Steve as it was, not to mention married to Mr. Jarvis … well, let’s just say Bucky Barnes wouldn’t have time to pine for anyone. But, _c’est la vie_ , such was not to be. Instead, she nodded. “Yes, if the girls can hurry up with their tasks, and clean up after themselves, I think we should be fine. All right, ladies?” she asked, turning toward them and arching an expectant eyebrow. They both grinned at her and nodded. She suspected there might be a bit of a crush going on there, for both girls, as they turned million-watt smiles on Bucky. He nodded and turned back to finish up the rearranging she’d set him on, while Steve stood by rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I should help them,” he suddenly offered.

“As nice as that is, Steve, I want my kitchen to remain in one piece. How about you go around and double-check the bedrooms, make sure everything is in order?” In her head, she added, “There’s not much you can break opening and closing doors …”

&&&

“I don’t want you to go,” Steve whined, holding on to the ends of Bucky’s scarf and pulling him closer. “Weather forecast says snow, and it’s already cold enough out there to freeze my balls off. I don’t want you to lose your balls, Buck. I got plans for those balls.”

“Good to know,” Bucky chuckled, leaning forward to pop a kiss on the tip of Steve’s nose. “But I gotta, babe. Still got a stack of presents back at my place, and I promised to get the girls home in time for dinner. I won’t be long – just a coupla hours, tops. I’ll be back in time for a quick snuggle before Tony and every fucking person we know gets here. See if you can get Mrs. J to let us have some of her famous eggnog when I get back, huh?”

“You know you bat those baby blues at her, and she’ll give you the key to the liquor cabinet. You don’t need me doing your dirty work for you,” Steve replied churlishly, nosing at Bucky’s check, down to his jaw, and up into the hair brushed back from his temple. “What’m I gonna do for a coupla hours without you? It’s our last hours before everyone gets here. You should be spending them with me.”

“You could come with me. No, wait, you do that, we’ll never get back. I’m gonna be too distracted having you in the car with me. Might have to run away with you, y’know? ‘Cos I just can’t resist ya,” he added, tilting his face to capture Steve’s lips with his own. The kiss turned quickly from sweet to smoldering, with Steve curling one hand around Bucky’s nape to deepen the kiss, while his other hand slid from Bucky’s hipbone to the swell of his ass, where Steve’s strong fingers kneaded the pliant flesh, pressing Bucky’s groin against the heat of Steve’s. When the hand holding his neck started to migrate down his back toward his other ass cheek, Bucky pulled back from the kiss to stare quizzically into Steve’s lust-eclipsed eyes.

“Steve?” he whispered, his voice raspy and higher-pitched than usual. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here. With me. _In bed_.”

Bucky groaned, and rested his forehead against Steve’s. “You finally decide you want that _now_? Babe, y’gotta know I want you more than anything, but I made promises. Y’don’t want me to break my promises, do you?”

“No?” Steve shrugged, his hands sliding to rest again in the neutral territory of Bucky’s hips. Space opened up between them as Steve took a tentative step back. Bucky missed the heat of him already, and his dick had definitely taken notice of the proximity of Steve’s, but thoughts of snow and ice swirled in his head as he tried to calm the beast of his own lust.

“No. But I will definitely take a raincheck on the bed part. You know I love you, right?” Steve nodded. “I’ve never loved anybody more than you, and I never will. We have time, baby. Got a whole lifetime of time.” He kissed Steve on the forehead then, followed by the tip of his nose, and finally a chaste peck on his lips. “Keep my seat warm for me, huh? I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

&&&

“You gonna marry him?” Leslye asked from her seat in the passenger seat.

“You two look really good together. Like, _really_ good,” her companion, Denise, offered from the back seat.

“Like, _goals_ good,” Leslye agreed.

“Really? We look good, huh?” Bucky chuckled from the driver’s seat. He peered out into the approaching gloom. He hadn’t timed their departure as well as he’d hoped, and the sun was already setting and they weren’t even off the mountain yet. There weren’t a lot of street lamps along the roads up and down the mountains, as Stark felt that ruined the aesthetic of being out in the wilderness. He flicked on his high beams and released his breath. Now he could see the twinkle of the reflectors set on the center line, the gleaming patches on the roadway where ice was forming. He’d rather know where the patches were before he hit them, thank you very much.

“Yeah. Best thing to hit town in like ever,” Leslye shrugged with all the snark of untried youth.

“You ladies in high school or –“

“Holiday break. I’m a sophomore at SUNY. Denise is up at Dartmouth. Trust me, we’re both legal.”

“Wasn’t asking that, but thanks for the 411. So you’re not around town much of the year.”

“You’re still the best thing to hit it. We do weddings, you know. But if you don’t let Mrs. J cater, you might as well go into WitSec right the hell now. She will hunt you down and she will make you pay,” Leslye pointed out.

Denise snorted. “I think she’s an ex-assassin for some dodgy eastern European security agency. KGB, maybe. She scares me.”

“Me, too, ladies. Me, too.”

“So, marrying? Yea or nay?”

“ _Oh yeah_. I’m gonna marry that boy. Soon as he says yes.”

&&&

“I am putting all the guests in the west wing,” Ana announced suddenly _a propos_ of nothing.

“I … what?” Edwin asked, nonplussed.

“I am putting everyone in the west wing. Let Steve have the east to himself.”

“To himself, eh? Matchmaking again, my love?” Edwin smiled, pressing his cheek to the side of her head, and resting it there for a moment, smiling. Ana sat at her dressing table, touching up her hair and makeup preparatory to the arrival of their guests.

Ana looked at his reflection in the round mirror over the dressing table and smiled. “That boy is so stupid. He finally decided he’s ready, and Master Tony is filling the house with friends. Steve feels awkward about having sex while the others are here.”

“Did he tell you that?” Edwin asked, his eyebrow arched curiously.

“Of course he didn’t, silly! But I know,” she added, pressing her index finger to the side of her nose. “I can read that boy like a simple cipher. Don’t you think I can’t.”

“My love, I would never question you decryption skills. I know when not to question my betters. But Master Tony is not going to be pleased to have his room relocated to another wing.”

“Convince him the view is better on that side. I know you can.”

“Well, it is true that the sunsets are spectacular this time of year, especially with the promise of snow. And we know he never likes to get up with the sun. Hmmm. I shall give it some thought and endeavor to put the spin on it, shall we say.”

“You do that, my love. Once Tony is convinced it was his idea, there will be no problem. And a little privacy may go a long way with our Steven,” she added, patting the side of his face gently. He turned and kissed her cheek softly before standing up stiffly to rest his hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Yes, well, I suppose I’d better see about transport, shall I? Apparently the jet is full. I’m thinking perhaps I may need to enlist Steve’s help to collect everyone.”

“Did you not just hear me, Edwin? Bucky is coming back before Master Tony arrives. Steve will be busy!”

“Ah. Yes. No, I hadn’t put that together. So, you expect canoodling.”

“At the very least.”

“Well, _you go, Steve_ , I suppose.”

“Yes, exactly. Happy is coming with Tony?”

Edwin nodded.

“Problem solved. You and Steve both drive out to the landing strip, and he leaves the car, you bring him back so he is here when Bucky gets back. Happy can drive when he gets in.”

“Of course, my dear. Your acumen in logistics is a great comfort.”

“Of course it is, Edwin. That is why this holiday will go without the hitch, as you say.”

“Of course, darling,” Jarvis said fondly. “I’ll go collect Steve, shall I? Get the show on the road?”

“And not a moment too soon. Bucky is due back any minute!”

&&&

Vehicles were in place, the house was ready, Ana had dinner well in hand, Jarvis was calmly awaiting the signal that the jet was on approach, Connie and Joe were already installed in their rooms, and the jet was due in at any minute.

As Steve peered out into the flake-studded darkness, he hefted his phone nervously. He’d already called Bucky three times, and sent several more texts. And his phone remained obstinately silent. Obstinately and ominously, if Steve were honest with himself. He wasn’t all that good about doing that, being honest with himself, but he was trying. But tonight, he really didn’t want to be.

Connie and Joe had arrived about two hours ago, just as the first flakes started to fall. Connie had assured Steve that when she’d seen Bucky back at the house, he was loading his car with the remaining presents, his overnight bag, and was going to run a few more errands before heading back. 

That was over three hours ago. The snow was thick on the ground now, and Jarvis had called out the plow driver, Ernie, to ensure the mountain roads were clear. He’d already done a pass between the landing strip and the lodge, and from the lodge down to the foot of the mountain. He’d also done a circuit to the resort on the next peak, and would keep passing back and forth through the night. His partner, Bert, would take over the day shift if needed.

So the roads were clear. Ernie was salting and sanding as he went, too. So vehicles could get through.

Bucky should be here by now. At the very least, he should have seen at least one of Steve’s texts and texted back.

The temperature had dropped since nightfall, and was now hovering in the low teens. The windows all had the hazy halo of condensation on frigid glass, and if he looked closely, he’d be able to see little crystals of ice forming on the perimeter of the panes. 

What he couldn’t see was lights making their way up the mountain to the lodge.

What he couldn’t see was Bucky coming back to him.

Steve had been excited to realize that he was ready to move his relationship with Bucky forward. Then he was elated that Bucky felt the same way.

They were finally going to have their ever after. Both on the same page, both feeling confident in where they were, in where they were going. Even in where they’d been. Steve had finally let go of the past, and he was ready for their future together.

All he needed was for Bucky to join him. But as he stared out into the steadily increasing swirl of snow, he worried that maybe they’d jinxed it, talking about having so much time. That maybe they had no time left. He thumbed on his phone again, and texted, “Buck, where r u? Let me know ur ok love u.” Then he stared at the screen as hard as he could, willing it to respond.

It remained obstinately, ominously silent and blank.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that's a cliffhanger. It's all cliffhangery. I'm working on the next chapter. I hope to have it up in the next day or two. In the meantime ... comments?


	3. Shine a Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it pays to know a certified genius when the love of your life goes missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never intended the cliffhanger to drag on ...

At Last Sighting Plus Four, Steve lost it. And he wasn’t alone, as Connie started to freak out a little, too, which only served to agitate Joe. Jarvis and Mrs. J had to step in to contain the escalating panic, which was complicated by the fact that Tony’s flight hadn’t arrived yet due to poor visibility conditions approaching the mountain airstrip. 

An East Coast mountain airstrip wasn’t as high as one in the west, especially the Rockies, and it wasn’t as far from civilization. A miscalculation could take the jet into the heart of town, killing townspeople and destroying property. Add to this the growing storm, shaping up to be a Nor’Easter with high winds and heavy snow, combined with low temperatures, and odds were Tony’s jet was going to have to be diverted to a commercial airstrip, potentially stranding the gang somewhere other than the mountain.

And Bucky was still unseen, unheard. And the veneer of Steve’s calm was becoming brittle, fractured.

“Please, Captain Rogers, you must settle yourself. I’ve already contacted Ernie to see if he’s seen any sign of Sergeant Barnes. I’ve alerted the state police, the local police –“

“I need to be out there, doing something, Jarvis. I can’t sit by while he’s lost, maybe hurt – I never could and I never will,” Steve replied first anxiously, then with steely conviction, drawing himself up to his full height, expanding into the persona of Captain America, the man who’d infiltrated a terrorist compound so many years ago to save his best friend, his best guy.

Jarvis took an involuntary step back, eyes wide and eyebrows arching, while Connie rested her hand on her father’s arm and tried to tug him back to the couch, to let go his own rising agitation. Ana stood in the room, her eyes roving from Steve and Jarvis, to the weather beyond the window, with a side glance to Connie and Joe, and then she turned and left the room very quickly, leaving the others unaware.

“These are environmental conditions for which you are not well suited, sir. You could end up getting hurt yourself, and then someone else would have to go out in search of you. I recognize the depth of your feeling, Steve. When you finally meet that one person with whom you are meant to be, the draw is unimaginable. But Bucky would not want you to get lost and injured as well. We need to think this through, make a proper plan, have the proper equipment so no one is further injured –“

“GPS.”

As one, Jarvis and Steve, Connie and Joe all turned toward Ana Jarvis where she’d returned to the room holding a strange looking tube.

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Jarvis?” Steve asked, confused, but her intervention had already served to stem the escalating panic, causing him to level off slightly. Jarvis sent her a grateful smile, and her lips quirked up in response.

“I said, GPS. Bucky likely has his phone with him, right? He can be located by GPS.”

“Yes, but how do we do that? We’d need some kind of government approval, or, I don’t know – and oh my God, Mrs. J, is that what I think it is?” Steve demanded as Ana unfurled a flexible keyboard onto the antique server. A virtual display coalesced in front of her, between her face and the old mirror attached to the wall.

“There are apps that will locate via GPS, you don’t need the government, but they can be dodgy and open you up to malware and worms. No, this is much more accurate and far safer. Master Tony’s SPS.”

“SPS?”

“Stark Positioning System. It piggybacks off the Stark Array, pings off commercial and government satellites. It’s a tighter grid than the commercial or even government GPS because it uses a denser array of satellites to map the planet,” Ana replied confidently as her fingers danced over the keyboard, lifted to thread through virtual images and links, and generally wove magic out of nothing. “And of course, being designed by Master Tony, it’s more efficient, and there are no dropout zones. Even in this weather.” She furrowed her brow as she adjusted the device, fine tuning and delicately adjusting until her face relaxed. “Ah, there you are, you beautiful boy,” she cooed, leaning in to stare at a small blinking point in the floating screen.

Steve stepped around to look at the map from the other side, peering at the tiny light.

“Is he okay?” Joe Rocco asked suddenly into the silence.

“No way to tell. But he is stationary. And the signal is strong. It’s just,” she tailed off, shaking her head. “He’s off the road.” She tapped in additional commands, and the view shifted on its axis, showing elevation detail. She traced a line with her fingernail. “He’s off the road and it looks like he’s below ground level.” She looked up through the display into Steve’s frightened eyes. “It looks like he might have been knocked off the road somehow, and he’s somewhere below grade. A ditch maybe.”

“Or a ravine. There are some places around here that drop off pretty spectacularly. So where exactly is he? How do I get to him –“

“Captain. _Steve_. Let me organize the proper crew and equipment –“ Jarvis started to say, his hand closing around the meat of Steve’s bicep. He was saved from the argument brewing in Steve’s eyes by the ringing of the house phone. 

Ana deftly pulled up the display for the phone in the lower corner of the screen floating between her and Steve. “Ah, Master Tony!” she greeted enthusiastically, her eyes going comically wide as she nodded to Jarvis. “Let me put you on speaker.”

“Yeah, as I was saying, we’ve got a hole in the cloud layer so we’re on approach now. Tell Jarvis to get his lazy ass out of those jammies and into winter gear to come pick us up.”

“Sir, I’ll have you know I am attired in a full suit, as per usual,” Jarvis sniffed theatrically.

“Still can’t catch you out, can I, J? Been trying thirty years, and you’re always expertly turned out. Ah well –“

“Tony, shut up and listen,” Ana interrupted him sweetly, and went on to describe their current predicament regarding Bucky.

“Well, shit, why didn’t you say something sooner? Okay, feed me the coordinates. I’ll send the drones.”

“Did he … did he just say ‘drones’ – as in plural drones. Tony, why have you got drones on board?” Steve spluttered.

“Why do you care? I’m gonna use ‘em to find your boy toy. Give … me … just … another … second. And yes, they’re away.” The display in front of Ana changed suddenly, filling with multiple moving blips dropping from altitude to travel swiftly along the terrain toward the blip they were sure was Bucky.

“Um, Tony, there might be traffic on the road, and visibility is crap –“

“Oh, pish and posh, o ye of little technological understanding. My drones are skimming above the traffic level, and they’re equipped with proximity sensors, onboard AI, and a full medical sensor array. And as for why I have them – why not? And before you start spouting about public safety and all that horseshit, let me remind you that these are above military grade – they are Stark grade. They’re also equipped with stealth technology and extensive safety protocols. Even the most sensitive government sensors aren’t going to detect them. And they’re hella more fun to play with than RC cars from Radio Shack.”

“I wasn’t going to mention anything about public safety, but thanks for that. And thanks for deploying them. Are they there yet?”

“Switching over visual array,” Tony replied, and Ana’s display filled with different views of the same scene: Bucky’s car overturned in a ditch, with snow piling up on the undercarriage facing the sky. “Scanning for life signs.” Then there was a distinct snigger on the other end of the connection, and Tony chuckled, “I’ve always wanted to say that. Look at me, I’m Commander Data!”

“Jesus fuck, Tony, what’re you doin’, makin’ jokes at a time like this –“

“It’s okay, Steve,” came the calm voice of Helen Cho. “I’m reviewing the data now. He’s alive. It looks like he’s unconscious – possible concussion, mild. Temp inside the car is below freezing, and his core temperature has dropped. He’s in hypothermia. You’re going to need to get him warm as soon as you get to him – bring lots of blankets, plan to completely swaddle him. Remove any clothing that is wet or damp, you need to get that away from his skin so he doesn’t get frostbite. We’re on approach now, and we should land in a few minutes. Ana, can you get the med suite prepped for me? I’m going to need heated saline solution and warmed oxygen, as well as as many heated blankets you can find me.”

For a moment, they all froze, as the reality that there were three competing priorities, all swirling around Bucky, and no one was making decisions. Even Steve, with his years of command, was suddenly at a loss. Because … _Bucky_. He looked at Jarvis helpless for a moment, and at that moment, Connie shook herself and announced, “Dad, you go with Steve to get to Bucky. Take one of the SUVs and grab a pile of blankets on your way.” Steve started guiltily, but shot Connie a grateful look as he nodded toward Joe. “Mr. Jarvis – you’re on your way to pick everyone up at the landing strip, right?” He nodded decisively and darted off to the garage, dragging Steve and Joe behind him so they could collect the supplies and be on their ways. And then to Ana, she said, “What can I do to help?”

“Come with me,” Ana grinned at her.

&&&

Jarvis met them at the foot of the stairs with a pile of arctic gear, and an umbrella, and was pleased to see that the first off was Happy, ready to pitch in with getting their charges safely to the lodge. Happy greeted him warmly and nodded appreciatively at the two large hybrid passenger vans parked nearby, each humming quietly as their interiors warmed to accept their passengers. He shrugged on one of the parkas, and went to work.

Next off were the stewards, who immediately set about pulling luggage from the cargo bay and loading it in the cargo sections of the vans. Fortunately, even though this group would be staying at the lodge for more than a week, none of them were the kind of overdressed diva wannabes that Master Tony used to surround himself with. The luggage was, therefore, sensible and not overabundant. They all knew from prior visits that many of their needs had already been anticipated, and so they didn’t need to bring unnecessary and bulky bags. As such, the team was able to unload the package quickly, and there was sufficient room in the two vans to accommodate everything. Jarvis smiled to himself – once again, Ana’s estimates proved accurate. The woman was a wonder. 

The passengers started deplaning right behind Happy, and each thanked him as they shrugged on the extra coverings and hurried carefully across the pavement to the vans. While Ernie had been through the area just a short while ago, clearing the path and salting as he went, the snow was coming down fast enough that footing was slick and treacherous. As each person reached one of the vans and got in, Jarvis breathed a little easier. He had yet to spy Master Tony, or Miss Potts, but he knew they were both aboard. Dr. Cho was one of the last to come down the stairway, and she was distracted as she spoke on the phone – presumably either to Steve or to Ana. She smiled at him as she reached the bottom, and excused herself on the phone long enough to wish him a happy holiday and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. He liked Helen Cho – despite her very modern approach to medicine, she had old-fashioned manners. He liked the juxtaposition.

Finally, Miss Potts came through the doorway and smiled down at Jarvis, then glanced over her shoulder and shook her head fondly. Ah. Master Tony was being Master Tony, then. Jarvis moved up the stairway a few steps and held his hand out to Miss Potts; she beamed at him as she stepped down to take his hand, and allow him to lead her to the ground level. “This is going to be an interesting trip, Jarvis. Already he’s got an emergency and a technological challenge. He’s going to be impossible.”

“Yes, Miss. Business as usual, then.” She giggled and nodded, shrugging on her coat over the lighter one she’d worn in flight. She patted his hand and made her way over to the vehicles, where Happy handed her into the front seat of the van he was driving.

Then Master Tony appeared in the entryway. He carried the control system for the drones like an electric piano in a rock band, continuing to coordinate the drones even as they deplaned and scuttled across the tarmac to the waiting vehicles. He glanced down at Jarvis and grinned, and Jarvis knew he’d better reposition himself to ensure that Master Tony didn’t tumble ass over teakettle on his way down the stairs.

Once Tony was safely on solid ground, Jarvis went back up to confirm that everyone was off the plane, and the lead steward confirmed this for him before finalizing post-flight checks. The crew of the aircraft had their own van parked in the hangar, so once the plane taxied in and was shuttered up against the weather, they’d be able to take themselves off to the resort on the opposing peak to spend the night before they made their ways home for the holidays.

Once Jarvis was assured that all was in hand, he made his way to the vehicles and started up the van.

Tony didn’t wait until the door closed before announcing, “They have him. They’re on the way back to the lodge now.” With that, he shut down the display, and collapsed the system into a small cube that rested in his palm. “Feds would love to get their hands on this system, but I think we just demonstrated its best application is for search and rescue. Got some ideas for improvement. Just what I wanted for Christmas – a project,” he added, grinning.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Jarvis breathed out emphatically. And with that, he turned the van onto the road to head back to the lodge.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, we don't know what condition Bucky is in, other than he's alive and Steve's got him. More to come ... stick with me! 
> 
> And thank you for the comments - much appreciated as I, like so many, deal with the losses we as the fannish community have suffered this week. I never met Debbie Reyolds or Carrie Fisher, but they both figured prominently in my life over the years. Carrie was just a few months older than I am, and I was in fact named after Debbie Reynolds. I've been a fan all my life. And I was among the people who saw Star Wars in its opening week - when you could go see this obscure film no one had heard of, and sit through two showings without leaving your seat because no one was waiting to get in. The following Monday, Time Magazine did a cover story on the technology of Star Wars, and the world literally changed.


	4. Adeste Fidelis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we catch up with Bucky, and we find out what happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to dig into Bucky's experience before we go any further. I may come back and rewrite this a bit, but it's nearly 3 a.m., and I can't sleep away the day - finally going to see Rogue One in the afternoon!

“What the fucking fuck?”

Bucky swore from his position suspended from his seat by his seatbelt, wedged in place by free range presents that had shaken loose and tumbled through the car as it had rolled and skidded to a stop against a tree. It seemed like all of the boxes and parcels had accumulated right under him, and while they kept the seatbelt from biting too deeply into his chest and shoulder, they also kept him immobile and unable to break free. He was trapped in his car by a mountain of gifts. Worse, the car was stuck in a nose dive, so the pile trapped him from feet to shoulders.

He tried to kick at the boxes with no luck – the pile was jammed up against his feet and legs, and he had practically no wiggle room. He tried to wriggle free, again with no joy. He tried to snake his arm around to undo his safety belt, but couldn’t budge. 

Shit.

Fuck.

And goddamn.

He could hear his phone ringing, an insistent burr that was muffled by the mound of stuff that blocked him in. Somewhere ahead of him, to the right. The footwell was pointing downward, and the phone could be anywhere in that crammed space. He couldn’t reach the phone, couldn’t even get his arm free to try to grasp it. A quick survey of sensation confirmed that he’d suffered some bruising. The pain in his head and the fact that he’d clearly passed out and was just coming to indicated a concussion. Mild, he’d guess, since he wasn’t vomiting and didn’t feel the need. Except for that cold pit in his stomach screaming he’d never see Steve again.

Yeah, that was just unacceptable. 

He tried to catalogue what was in the boxes, whether the boxes might compress if he managed to undo the seat belt. He’d probably fall downward, and his weight and the sudden force would probably crush at least a few, giving him some room to maneuver, and with that, an opportunity to find his phone. 

He realized that the interior of the car was growing cooler – the engine had somehow shut itself off sometime between the time he’d lost control of the car on a patch of ice that had missed salting, and now. He tried to peer out through the windows, but snow crusted the side windows, and the inverted windshield was buried. Not enough time for that much snow to accumulate, so something else was obstructing his view. A tree maybe, or rocks. He had no idea how stable his position was, so maybe a sudden fall into the boxes wasn’t such a great idea. 

The radio was silent, and the lights were off. He must have drained the battery. He had no idea how long he’d been out, but the fact that the interior temp was dropping told him it had been a while – an hour, maybe more. 

Steve must be freaking the hell out.

And to underline that cheery thought, he heard the ping of an incoming text.

That would be Steve, he was sure. Checking up on him, hoping for response. Probably worrying like hell, and trying to figure out just what enemy stronghold he could storm to get Bucky back. Only there was no warlord this time, no fortress to be breached, no terrorists to subdue. Just snow and ice and the dark and an unknown location …

No. Just … _no_. He was not missing his first Christmas with Steve as his boyfriend. They had cuddling to do, and canoodling, and kissing. So much kissing. He was not missing out on kissing that big beautiful lunkhead.

Dammit to hell, he was getting out of this and he was getting back to Steve. It was _not_ going to be the last thing he did …

&&&

Bucky’s knuckles were scraped raw and his hands were cramping as he finally maneuvered his hand through the press of boxes to click the seatbelt release. For a moment, nothing happened. Then another moment. The seat belt didn’t shift, didn’t retract, and for all intents and purposes, he was still locked into it.

And then … the box right under his chest started to compress under his weight, an uneven shift downward as the box buckled under him. He had no idea what was in the box, and he could care less. He knew there was nothing particularly dangerous in the stash, and he was pretty sure he’d already dropped off all the alcoholic gifts on his first run. Whoever’s gifts he was pancaking would just have to deal. He was pretty sure anyone would rather have him, alive and whole, rather than some fucking Christmas present. 

For now, he just had to trust that gravity was his friend, and the compression would accelerate and continue until he was free to move. He had to find his phone and call for help …

&&&

He was literally crying with frustration.

The interior of the car was getting colder, and he was starting to lose the feeling in the tips of his fingers. Worse, his fingers were covered in blood seeping out of the scrapes on his knuckles and joints. He’d lost track of time, but he thought it might be an hour or so since the last communication from Steve, the last ping. Without the sound to guide him, he was clawing through boxes haphazardly, knowing only that the phone was somewhere below him in the upended car.

Suddenly the interior was infused with a strange red glow, and Bucky just about lost it. Fucking aliens? Really?

His eyes darted from window to window, narrowing as whatever it was came closer. Several somethings. Several floating somethings. Hovering, maybe. There was a weird sound, like a hairdryer or one of those dryer things in the john. He watched in fascination as the snow gradually cleared off the driver side window. And then he was looking at something out of a scifi movie, a manta ray-shaped black thing hovering just a few inches away from the window. There was another floating a few inches away, and when he turned his head, he could see more on the other side of the car, at the passenger window, and the back. And then he felt it.

Warmth.

Whatever they were, they were focusing heat into the interior of the car.

Tears flowed without thought.

Those things were trying to warm him up.

And then he noticed the stylized “S” on the surface of closest … drone, he guessed. Of course. He relaxed, slumping against the pile of boxes still massed beneath him.

Stark.

_They’d found him._

He was gonna have his Christmas with Steve after all.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I think there might be another two or three chapters, and then we'll be done. I'm hoping to finish the story before the weekend is over. And then I've got a chapter for It Takes a Village that is demanding to be written, and another for Threads. And there's a sequel (short) to Architecture that's tickling the back of my mind. And a story I've been trying to get to for over a year, and it is just beating me up to be written. Not to mention Ohana!
> 
> And no, i have not forgotten On the Air or Take Up Your Shield and Follow Me. I just wish I could write 27 hours a day!


	5. The Little Drummer Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joe has his own posse, and Steve finds himself on the outside looking in on Bucky's rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer to safety.
> 
> One step closer to finished. :)

As Steve navigated the snowy roads, Joe was on the phone. Joe! Apparently his secret poker group connected him to the local telegraph, and he was marshalling the troops. Ernie the snowplow guy was already heading toward the stretch of road where Bucky was, to make sure the area was clear of snow and ice. Ralph the EMT was off-duty, but he was on his way to assess Bucky’s condition, provide the jaws of life if warranted, and stabilize him if needed. And Henry the mechanic was rendezvousing with the team with his tow truck to recover the car.

Steve was just the driver, maybe muscle. Joe was the team leader.

Moving out here from the city, hooking him up with Edwin Jarvis, that had done more to help Joe put the desert sand behind him than any number of hours in therapy, in group at the VA. Steve started when Joe laid a warm, firm hand on his shoulder, and told him, “It’ll be okay, Steve. Ana said the drones have arrived, and they’ve scanned him. He’s got hypothermia, possibly a concussion, but there’s nothing broken, and there are no internal injuries. The car is nose-first in the snow, but it’s not leaking fuel. We’re gonna need all the guys, but we will get him out and get him home. You’re gonna have your Christmas, kid.”

Steve spared a quick glance and a grateful smile at Joe, but went back immediately to concentrating on the road, nearly obscured now by the white-out conditions of the storm. It was a shock when a few minutes later, the storm seemed to lift away, giving them clear visibility.

“We musta hit the eye,” Joe guessed. “Boys are meeting us at the coordinates – maybe we should take advantage of the lull, huh?”

Steve didn’t have to be told twice. He inched the speed of the SUV up a notch, still mindful of the road conditions, but happy to take advantage of the improved visibility.

A few minutes later, he pulled to the side of the road at a sharp curve, alongside the ambulance and snow plow. The road dropped off just at the verge, plunging a good 20 or 30 feet down at a sharp incline. Even after hours of snow and the work of Ernie’s plow, Steve could see the skid marks shimmering wetly on the pavement where Buck’s car had spun out of his control. He could still see evidence of black ice glittering the light of the vehicle headlights.

Steve shrugged out of his seat belt and was about to bolt out of the car when Joe’s arm shot across and pinned him in his seat. Joe was nowhere near as strong as Steve was, but the shock of it kept Steve unmoving.

“These guys know what they’re doing. They may not be your team, but you don’t want to get in their way. Right, Steve?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he answered, deflating slightly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

They both got out of the car, and made their way over to where Ernie stood next to the driver’s side of the tow truck parked backwards, its winch facing the gully. He was peering down the slope intently, and Steve’s eyes were drawn downward, too. A tall, dark-skinned man was bracing against the incline with a chain attached to the winch on the truck. He must be Henry. He looked up the hill from where he worked and waved cheerily at Steve and Joe, then turned back to anchor the chain on the rear bumper of Bucky’s car. At the driver’s side door, another man, Steve guessed he was Ralph, stood by talking and nodding. He glanced up at Henry and gave a thumb’s up. Steve felt himself breathing again. He must be talking to Bucky.

All around the car, about five feet away and ranged in a rough circle, the drones floated silently. They looked like manta rays, sleek and black, light reflecting off the sheen of their surfaces, each adorned with a single stylized “S.” Each had a large red “eye” in the nose, and they seemed to be caught in a flickering haze. Suddenly, Steve realized they were giving off heat, and the snow around the car was starting to melt. Flakes falling on the things seemed to vaporize before they hit the devices’ hulls. 

Definitely not intended for military use – if they’d been designed to be used in combat situations, they’d be a matte finish, maybe in camo, and that “S” would be probably be on the underside. No, Tony really did design these for peacetime use. And they were seeing practical application right in front of them.

“Mr. Stark is really some inventor, huh? Those things are keeping your pal and Ralph there toasty warm. I wouldn’t mind having a few of them on hand for nights like this, I’ll tell ya,” Ernie whistled appreciatively.

“Yeah, Tony’s full of good ideas,” Steve nodded absently, craning to see if he could catch a glimpse of Bucky behind the fogged up window. But fogged up meant condensation, which meant there was a temperature differential of warmth vs. cold to create it. He only hoped the warmth was on Buck’s side of the window.

“Has anyone talked to him?”

“Bucky? Yeah, Ralph checked in with him. He’s awake and anxious to get the hell out of his car. Mrs. Jarvis called a few minutes before you pulled up, and she relayed what the flying thingies found when they scanned ‘im. Helluva thing,” Ernie shook his head. “Next thing y’know, we’ll be beamin’ places, and I’ll be out of a job.”

Steve huffed a laugh, feeling his hands balling up into frustrated fists. Everyone had their job and they were doing it, and Steve felt superfluous, pointless to the exercise. No one needed a soldier here in snow.

And then Henry called up that it would be helpful if he could go on the other side of the car, and try to keep it stabilized while they winched the car away from the tree and up the hill. Steve practically dove down the hill to take up his position on the passenger side door. Once there, he rubbed his glove across the window surface, wiping away the fog so he was looking in at Bucky. Buck was slumped over a pile of packages – boxes, some wrapped, some in shipping cardboard, piled up and crushing under his weight. He rapped on the window and called out Buck’s name, and he looked up at him with the most heartbreakingly beautiful expression.

“Nearly ready, baby,” Steve called to him. “You just wait ‘til I get you home. I’m never lettin’ you outta my sight again, Buck.”

“Fuck, baby, I am so glad to see you! Trust me, we get back to your place, you ain’t gettin’ rid of me. Not ever. I’m gonna wrap myself around you and just hold on forever!”

“Deal!” Steve replied, grinning foolishly as he took hold of the windshield and roof to guide the car up the hill as the winch groaned and wheezed, and the car suddenly lurched. “Hold on!”

&&&

By the time they levered the car back over the embankment and onto the road, the eye had passed and the snow was falling heavily again. Once on the level pavement, Ralph opened the driver’s side door, where Buck was now pinned back in his seat by the resettled packages. Ralph waved Steve and Joe over to help off-loading the packages, which ended up in the rear storage of the SUV, and then suddenly, Buck was free. His first act was to grab Steve by the front of his jacket, and pulled him in for a thorough kiss. It went on long enough that the guys started to shuffle in embarrassment. Finally, Joe stepped forward and tapped Steve on the shoulder, causing the two boys to break apart, panting.

“Well, I think we’ve established there is nothing wrong with Bucky’s lungs,” Ralph snickered. “But let’s get him out of here and into the ambulance – I wanna check you over, and then I understand we’re going up to the Stark lodge?”

“Yeah, um, Dr. Cho has a medical suite there, and she’s already prepped to take care of Buck.”

“Warmed IV, heated oxygen?” 

Steve nodded.

“Good. In the meantime, I’ve got some blankets warming in the ambulance, so we’ll get him nice and toasty and start bringing that core temperature up, huh?”

“Warm sounds good,” Buck agreed, his teeth starting to chatter again as Ralph helped him shift sideways in his seat, and then try to stand. Bucky was unsteady after so long in the cold, in an awkward position, and he looked like he might be a little dizzy, too. Ralph nodded to Steve, who took up the other side of Bucky, fighting down the urge to just scoop him up and carry him. Together, they walked him to the ambulance, where Ralph got him onto stretcher, and started pulling heated blankets out of the warmer while Steve started tucking Bucky in. While they were occupied with Bucky, Ernie and Henry set about emptying the car with Joe’s help.

A few minutes later, they had Bucky completely enveloped in warm blankets, and his shivers were starting to calm. While Ralph worked on warming a bag of saline solution, Steve sat at Bucky’s side, gently smoothing his palm over Bucky’s forehead, letting his fingers stray into his hair. Bucky’s eyes closed, a pleased smile on his lips as he leaned into the touch, practically purring. Steve was overwhelmed with the thought that he’d almost lost this beautiful man, once again. He had this sudden feeling that it was time. It was time to let go of the past completely so they could build a future together. He turned to say that to Bucky when he was interrupted with, “Tea,” Joe said suddenly, appearing at the rear of the ambulance with a silver thermos.

“Huh?”

“Hot tea,” he said, holding out a thermos that Steve didn’t remember him getting. “Eddie gave me this before we left the lodge. Should still be good and hot,” he added with a smile.

“Hot tea is good,” Ralph approved. “Get some of that into you, and then we’ll get you fully tucked in so we can head up to the lodge.”

“What about my car? And the presents?” Bucky asked after loosening the blankets so he could sit up and take a sip of the tea; his face relaxed into bliss as the warm liquid slid down his throat.

“Ernie and Henry just finished pulling all the parcels out, and Henry found your phone,” Joe answered. “Everything’s in the SUV. Henry’s going to take the car to his garage to check it over.”

“Okay, so we can head back now, yeah? I’d like to ride with Buck –“ 

“How’m I going to get back?” Joe asked quietly, a faint blush on his face. Right. Steve had forgotten Joe didn’t drive anymore. Hadn’t driven in a number of years, a byproduct of his own flavor of PTSD.

“Sorry, Joe, I’m an idiot.” It tore him up to be separated from Bucky, even for a minute, but he couldn’t very well strand Joe out here in a blizzard. He snaked his hand under the covers to find Bucky’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll see you soon. I love you,” he added, and bent down to kiss Bucky again, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him, the very scent of him.

“Love you, too,” Bucky breathed.

&&&

Helen met them at the door, and quickly directed Ralph and his charge to her medical suite. Ralph moved Bucky into the bed, and Helen swiftly hooked up the IV and warmed oxygen. She paused to thank Ralph for his efforts, and suggested that he go down with Joe to the living room to join the others in a holiday drink. 

It was obvious that Steve wasn’t leaving Bucky’s side any time soon, so the other two men just nodded and left, after wishing Bucky a speedy recovery. He was getting drowsy from the increased warmth, but he was able to smile and wave, and murmur his thanks before they left.

Helen was still moving quickly, and was hooking Bucky up to diagnostic equipment as the other men left the medical suite. “I’d like to keep him here for observation for a few hours, but you’re welcome to stay, Steve. Like I could get you to leave,” she snorted.

“Yeah, well, now I’ve got him, I’m never letting go,” Steve snarked back at her, but the relief in his voice was obvious and heartfelt. “After the observation period, then what?”

She was checking Bucky’s pupil response now, holding the light over each pupil, and then releasing the eyelid. She smiled down at Bucky encouragingly, and patted him on the shoulder. He looked up sleepily and nodded. “Then he can either stay here, or he can move to one of the bedrooms. The only thing is, someone will have to wake him every so often to make sure there aren’t any complications from his concussion.”

“I vote moving to a bedroom,” Bucky murmured.

“I vote moving you to my bedroom,” Steve answered, and Bucky opened one eye, eyebrow raised. “If that’s okay with you,” Steve nodded to Buck.

“A-okay,” Bucky agreed.

“Good, then. I know you’ll check on him. You’ll call me if there’s any change. In fact, if you’re going to be taking care of him, I think maybe we can move Bucky in about an hour or so. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” Bucky replied around a yawn. “Thanks, Helen,” he murmured softly.

She touched him on the shoulder again, but it was obvious he was dropping off. It had been a long, stressful day, and he’d been through a lot. It wasn’t surprising that now he was out of danger, his body was forcing him to rest.

Steve cupped his palm around her elbow and drew her to the far side of the suite. She followed, curious and half-amused. When they’d moved far enough to be out of Bucky’s earshot if they spoke quietly, Steve stopped and swallowed hard. He was blushing before he even started to speak. Helen smothered a laugh behind her hand, and shook her head. “Sex will increase core temperature. But given all he’s been through, you should probably go easy on him. Check in frequently, be prepared to stop if he experiences any dizziness, shortness of breath, disorientation.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t, not really … oh, shit. Yeah. I _was_. We haven’t yet, and I didn’t want to do anything while everyone was here, but … if he wanted to … I was just so afraid I’d lost him, Helen.”

“Steve, Steve, it’s perfectly natural when faced with death and beat it, to celebrate life. That’s what sex is. Celebrating life. You’ve got the right idea – let him set the pace. And like I said, check in frequently. The concussion appears mild, but you never know, sometimes complications develop after the fact. Just be safe. I know you’ll be considerate. You and Bucky are lucky to have each other.”

“I don’t know that I ever realized just how lucky until tonight. I love him so much, Helen. I don’t know what I’d do if he …” He shook his head. He couldn’t even contemplate that possible future.

“Look, go get something to eat. Let him sleep for an hour or so. Then we’ll get some soup into him, and you can take him to your suite and we’ll get him settled there. Then you can work out whatever you need to work out together. You both deserve to be happy, Steve. You just have to let yourself.”

"Yeah, okay. I’ll get a tray and come back and sit with him. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“I’m sure that will be good for him. Now go. Eat. You may need your strength later.”

Steve blushed again, but nodded, smiling.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helen Cho has quickly become one of my favorite characters in this series. She's always going to be on the side of her patient, whoever that may be, but she's also always going to be on Steve's side.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! I'm thinking two more chapters ... cue stupid boy in love cuddles ... :)
> 
> What'd you think?


	6. Gloria in Excelsis Deo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath, Steve and Bucky's friends pull together, Bucky rapidly improves, and Steve makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... maybe more than just one more chapter. But we are closing in on the end ...

Steve had managed to avoid the crush when they’d brought Bucky back to the lodge, but now that Buck was stable and in Helen’s care, he couldn’t avoid the swarm of friends and colleagues that engulfed him the minute he left the medical suite. With a human telegraph that rivaled the best tight-beam technology communications, within seconds of him leaving the suite, everyone knew, and everyone was lining up to hug him, kiss him, pat him on the back, and otherwise let him know that he wasn’t alone, and they were all there for him and Bucky.

Peggy hugged him then cuffed him on the ear, telling him, “The pair of you, I swear! Living in interesting times with Rogers and Barnes. I’m not partial to gray hairs, darling. Don’t accelerate them for me, all right? I thought getting you out of the field meant the last of daring excitement with you, my love.”

Steve shrugged and huffed a laugh under his breath. “Trust me, Pegs, I have no interest in repeating that kind of excitement. Y’know, what they say about dying making your life pass before your eyes is wrong. It’s facing the fact that you might lose the person you love best.”

“And what did that passing before your eyes tell you?” Peggy asked gently, her head tipped to one side as she studied him, even as her hands ran up and down his arms encouragingly, soothingly.

“That I’ve wasted enough time. Life’s too short to fuck with it.”

“Well done, you. About fucking time. When you do it for real this time, do me a favor?”

“Yeah, Peg?”

“Let me walk you down the aisle. Let me give you away. I wasn’t at your fake wedding, but let me be there when you do it for real,” she told him, her eyes glistening with moisture.

Steve’s voice caught in his throat, and he couldn’t dislodge it – no words were willing to be heard at that moment, so he just nodded fiercely, not even trying to fight the tears that welled in his eyes.

“Okay,” she agreed, tears started to stream. She pressed her lips together and smiled at him, containing the emotions by force of will. “Okay,” she said again, her voice wrecked as she nodded, giving his arm one last caress, twining her fingers with his. “Soon,” she added, and he nodded again, leaning in to press a tear-speckled kiss to her cheek. She squeezed his hand as she leaned her head against his forehead. “I just want you to be happy, Steve. I want you to let yourself be happy,” she whispered, and he nodded against her face, a small sob ripping out of his mouth. “Be happy, love.”

&&&

As he made his way through the throng, the theme was pretty much the same – glad you’re alive, glad Barnes is alive, glad you two have found each other, where’s my invitation?

Where, indeed?

Steve smiled to himself as he piled his plate up high, filled a mug with Ana’s delicious hot cocoa, and settled himself into a chair to simply soak up the energy that swirled in the room. He’d only been sitting a few minutes when Ana herself found him.

“You’re taking him back to your right, am I right, Steven?” she asked, not giving him a chance to do more than nod before she went on, “Good. I’ve set out some very nice blankets and quilts, and a lovely heated blanket. Mr. Jarvis has made sure the fridge is stocked – soup, sandwiches, those little hot dog thingies you like so well. A jug of my hot cocoa – you can warm it in the microwave when you need to. You will take good care of him. And we will take good care of you both.”

“Thank you, Ana. I don’t know what we would’ve done without your quick thinking. You located him, you made sure –“ he choked then, the emotions he’d held in check all evening finally welling up and overwhelming him. Tears started to fall then, and he swallowed a sob before they broke free. She shifted on the arm of the chair and put one arm around his shoulder, rubbing his close arm with her other hand. 

“Let it out,” she murmured, pressing her face against the crown of his head and drawing him closer. “It’s okay. Let it out.” They sat like that for several minutes, Steve awash in emotions he could no longer contain, Ana giving him strength and solace with her touch, her murmured words. He didn’t even know if she was still using words after a while, but the sound of her voice was comforting, like having his Mom back for a brief moment in time.

Finally, the wave seemed to settle, and he felt more in control again. She seemed to sense the change, and shifted back away from him, releasing his shoulders. She stood then, and looked down at him critically. “Well, that needs warming,” she announced, snatching up his mug. “I’ll be right back. And I want to see that plate empty by the time I return, mister,” she commanded, and then she was off again.

Steve was chuckling to himself when Tony came up, drawing a hassock away from one of the chairs to plant himself right in front of Steve.

“Barnes is okay,” is all he said.

Steve nodded.

“Good. Yeah, that’s … that’s good. So, the drones … they helped?”

Steve had to smile then. Trust Tony to put things in perspective. It was great that Bucky was alive and well, but really, he’d come over for a review of his latest technology.

“Yeah, Buck thought they were aliens at first.”

“Hah!” barked out of Tony. “I like it.”

“Might want to outfit them with communications – two way.”

“Oooh, good thought,” Tony agreed excitedly, patting himself down for his StarkTab. Out of thin air, it appeared, in Pepper’s hand. She looked down at Steve and smiled gently, then tapped Tony on the shoulder with her free hand. He took the tablet with a little grin, and opened an app to start taking notes. “What else?”

There was something so wonderfully weird and mundane about giving Tony Stark a field assessment of his latest tech that Steve found himself relaxing – truly relaxing – for the first time in days. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how keyed up he’d been since Tony’s announcement that Christmas was coming to Stark Mountain, and it was bringing a crowd. As he looked around the room and the spaces beyond, he saw that he was surrounded by everyone who meant anything to him. By everyone who meant anything to Buck, too. All their friends were here. He settled back in his seat, answering Tony’s questions absently as a plan formed in his head. A couple of phone calls. A string or two to pull. As Ana returned from the kitchen with his mug full of steaming fresh cocoa, garnished with a generous pile of whipped cream, he smiled. He had the perfect co-conspirator.

&&&

“You had us all worried.”

“Mmm? I had me worried.”

Helen chuckled and patted Bucky’s shoulder, a shoulder that was toasty warm under the mound of blankets. She stood at his bedside and looked at the IV drip, adjusting the flow slightly, then turned back and smiled at him. “Feeling better?”

“Feeling like I don’t need this thing over my face anymore,” he waggled his eyebrows to indicate the oxygen mask that fed warmed air into his lungs.

“Your core temperature is still low, but it’s rising steadily. Overall, I’d say you’re making a speedy recovery, Bucky. You’re going to want to take it relatively easy for the next couple of days, rest when you get tired, but in general, you should be good for normal activity, nothing unusually strenuous.”

“So when can I get out of here?”

“Anxious to get to bed?”

He smiled and chuckled, an odd, hollow-sounding thing inside the oxygen mask. “Anxious to get into _somebody’s_ bed. Sue me – I like waking up to that face.”

“It’s a nice face. Not as nice as Bruce’s face, but a nice face.”

“Wait, you and Bruce? I thought he was 100% anti-social.”

“There’s a difference between introverted and anti-social. Turns out I’m one of the people who can bring energy into his life rather than sap it. So … we fit, in our own weird little way. Like you and Steve.”

“We do, don’t we. Fit, I mean. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“You’re not the only one who’s lucky, you know. I can see how good you are for him. How good he is for you, too. It’s nice to see,” Helen smiled. Then she looked up, and her smile widened. “Ah, the next step in your treatment plan.”

“Homemade chicken noodle soup,” Ana announced, proffering a tray with a steaming bowl, a plate with a thick slab of bread, and a huge mug of something topped with a mound of whipped cream. Helen moved to adjust Bucky’s bed so he was sitting up, then she helped unwind him from his covers so his hands were free, but he was still mostly covered. When she was satisfied, she removed the oxygen mask, and Ana brought the tray over on the bed table. “That should warm you up,” Ana announced with a wide smile. “Then there’s a lovely young man who wants to warm you up even more,” she added with a twinkle.

“Think I’ll let ‘im,” Bucky agreed, tugging the table closer and taking an appreciative sniff of the soup, the hot cocoa, and the fresh bread and butter. “You’re gonna spoil me, Mrs. J.”

“If you remember to call me Ana, I will spoil you for one more day. Then it’s Steve’s job.”

“Deal,” he agreed with a grin, then tucked into his food.

“Deal,” she added approvingly.

&&&

Finally, Buck was fed, watered, temperature-cranked, and cleared for takeoff. Despite his protests, he was swathed in blankets and placed in a wheelchair which Steve happily wheeled into the parlor where everyone was hanging out so everyone could see for themselves that he was on the mend. Many hugs, exclamations, and air kisses later, Steve pushed the chair into the elevator to take him up to his suite in the east wing. Bucky managed to fend Steve off long enough to hit the bathroom, where he found his things had been moved from the guest suite. Toothbrush, tooth paste, shampoo, soap, the whole kit had been moved and put in places that looked kind of … permanent. Like they were going to stay there.

It surprised Bucky how much that meant to him, how hard it hit. He had to grab onto the edge of the counter for a moment to keep from being overwhelmed right down to the floor.

Steve was making space in his life for him. Like he belonged here. Like he belonged with Steve.

Because, Bucky knew that he did, but this small thing, this tiny action, told Bucky more eloquently than words that Steve knew it, too.

He finished up quickly then, shivering, because the cold was still with him, dried his hands, and came back into the room where Steve stood awkwardly by the bed, shifting from foot to foot. Bucky stood there a moment just taking it all in, feeling something fundamental shift inside. A sense of … destiny, he guessed. Like everything that happened had happened for a reason, and he was right where he was supposed to be.

Bucky smiled.

And then Steve smiled back, a genuine, light-up-his-eyes kind of smile that set Bucky’s heart a-flutter. Then Steve extended his hand to Bucky, and somehow the space between them just vanished, and they were standing with only inches between them, fingers twining, eyes searching, breath sharing.

“Hi,” Steve said quietly.

“Hi.”

“You scared the shit out of me tonight.”

“Everybody keeps sayin’ the obvious. Trust me, punk, I was scared plenty, too. Guess I’m gonna have to thank Stark, huh?”

“I thanked him already, but if you want to give an unbiased review of the tech, you’ll make his day.”

“Got some suggestions, but overall, pretty pleased with the service.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Fate chose that moment to make Bucky shiver again, and Steve’s eyes widened with alarm, his hands immediately clapping onto Bucky’s arms to rub warmth into them.

“Pretty sure that’s not how it’s supposed to work – supposed to warm from the core out,” Bucky said, paraphrasing what Helen had told him earlier. “Getting into bed sounds like a good plan right about now.”

Steve nodded, not letting go of Bucky’s arms as he turned them back toward the big bed and its pile of blankets. “Electric blanket’s on low, but we can turn it up if it’s not enough.”

“Only thing I want to keep me warm is you.”

“I’ll bet that sounded less cheesy in your head.”

“Sounded pretty cheesy in my head, too, but I still mean it. You’re the only thing, the only person I want, Steve. And right now, I just wanna hold you, and I want you to hold me.”

“I can do that.”

“Then why are we still standing here?”

“Because I’m a dumbass.”

“Well, we agreed on something at least.”

“I’m the dumbass who loves you.”

“I’m the dumbass who loves you back. Now let’s get in bed and you can keep me warm.”

Steve smiled, nodding, as he pulled back the covers, and helped Bucky get under them. He didn’t leave until he had Bucky well and truly tucked in, causing his boyfriend to snort and snicker over Steve’s solicitude. When he was finally satisfied, he nodded once, then went around the bed to turn off the lights, then crawl in on the other side, drawing the covers up to his chin as he rolled onto his side and scuttled over to the middle of the bed. Bucky rolled over and they were facing each other again, Steve’s fingers finding his under the thick layer of covers.

“Hi again,” Bucky said, grinning widely in the semi-darkness. The diffused light of the moon and stars through the snowfall reflected through the windows, casting the room in soft light and velvet shadows.

“Hi, yourself,” Steve greeted back, his voice quiet, solemn. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Unless you don’t want it. Speak now, ‘cos I’m gonna do it.”

“Stop fucking talking and kiss me already,” Bucky ordered, his hand snaking around to press into the back of Steve’s neck, propelling Steve forward into the first kiss since Bucky’s ordeal. 

“Is that okay?” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips as he gently nuzzled against Bucky’s cheek.

“More’n’okay, baby. I think you better do it again.”

Steve smiled and slotted his mouth to kiss Bucky again, again, and yet again. The room was silent save for the faint sound of skin sliding upon skin, the rustle of movement under layers of blankets. Steve slid his hand out from under the mound to smooth the hair back from Bucky’s forehead as he pulled back for a moment to stare into his eyes. “Still okay?” he asked softly as his hand trailed down Bucky’s temple to his cheek, and then to his chin, where Steve held it gently, reverently before turning his face to kiss him again.

“Always okay,” Bucky breathed, his hands reaching for Steve in the warm cocoon of blankets. His fingers trailed up Steve’s sides to rest on the swell of his pecs. “Don’t stop.”

“Never?”

“Never. Don’t ever stop,” Bucky concurred fervently as he closed the gap between their lips, crushing them together in a kiss laden with want and need and desperation. A kiss that spoke of home and future and everything they meant to each other. A kiss that was an oath forged of passion and love and commitment. 

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've fallen in love with Ana all over again. I had no idea she was going to be such a major player in this story when I started writing it, but she is pretty much the lady in charge here.
> 
> I know, I know, people get frustrated when I end a chapter before the smut, but that's where this chapter needed to end. It's not about the smut here, it's about the recognition of what they mean to each other in this moment. Steve's come a long way from the dude who pined in silence, then walked away the minute Bucky challenged him ... :)


	7. Winter Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a moment is seized, and words are spoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another night where I am falling asleep as I write, but I just had to get this chapter done. I've been waiting to write this for a while, and we're finally here. The moment when the future is born.

They kissed for a long time, until the kisses trailed off to simply sharing breath and murmured endearments, then to falling asleep wrapped up in each other, arms twined about each other, foreheads resting against each other, warmth shared between each other. There was nothing else in their worlds but each other.

Steve didn’t know how long he’d slept when his phone alarm woke him up, since he had no idea how long they’d kissed – it felt like forever and no time at all, natural as breathing, yet more exciting than anything he’d ever done. He felt like his body was alight with energy buzzing under his skin, energy given him with each kiss, each touch, each breathless promise.

He was warm in the embrace of the man he loved, but he really needed to shut that damned phone up. Regretfully, he drew himself out of Bucky’s arms, rolled over to grab the phone off the bedside table, and reset the alarm for another three hours. Then he laid on his back for a moment, trying to decide if he needed to his the head before he woke Bucky up to check up on him.

“Y’r too f’r ‘way,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve could feel Buck’s hand flailing around under the blankets. “Whr’d y’go?”

“Alarm. So I can wake you to check on you. Feelin’ okay?”

“Sl’py. Cold w’fout you. N’d cuddles, stat,” he muttered.

“Lemme just hit the john, and I’ll be right back,” Steve promised, giving in to the pressure in his bladder.

&&&

Steve took care of business, pausing to brush his teeth because, seriously, his mouth felt funky. And he was really hoping that maybe Bucky would be up for more kissing. He loved kissing Bucky. He wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing Bucky. And he had to admit to himself that he was ready to do more than just kissing with Bucky. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing more than just kissing with Bucky, too. He just … he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with Bucky. Simple. 

He knew that Bucky wanted him, he knew that Bucky wanted a life with him. But he’d done so much over the years to make that simple wish an impossibility. He’d denied them so many opportunities, barred them from being together for so many years. And tonight, in a ditch a few miles from where he stood, he’d almost lost it all. If they hadn’t been able to mobilize Ernie and Ralph and Henry, if Jarvis hadn’t been here to pull it all together, and Ana hadn’t known how to use Tony’s toys, if Tony hadn’t created those toys … Steve would be facing a lifetime alone, a lifetime without Bucky.

And that was just not acceptable. He couldn’t have one more day where Bucky wasn’t 100% his. 

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and stuck out his tongue at the shock of hair that fell over his eyes, the bags weighing down those eyes, the redness ringing those eyes. He wasn’t ashamed to have cried at the idea of losing Bucky. He was ashamed at all the time he’d wasted, of pushing him away, of denying them both the future they deserved.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and nodded to himself.

The future starts _now_.

&&&

Bucky had drifted back to sleep by the time Steve came out of the bathroom, so he allowed himself a moment to just look. Bucky had been a cute kid, and an attractive teenager, but over the years, he’d grown into something beautiful. Something immeasurably precious to Steve. He tilted his head and took in the soft features, the gentle way that the covers rose and fell with the timing of his breaths, the way his eyelids moved as his dreams played out against them, the sweet curve of his lips in a tiny smile.

He felt an overpowering urge to kiss those lips, to taste them once again … 

He slid back into bed and pulled himself across so that he was just inches from Bucky, able to feel the heat radiating off him as he stretched out and settled in. He lifted his hand to cup Bucky’s cheek, and stroke the cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, feeling the soft skin warm under his touch, the faint breath whistling between parted lips. “Buck,” he breathed back, letting his hand trail down his jaw, his neck, to settle on his shoulder where he gave it a little jostle.

Bucky’s eyes opened slowly, focusing on Steve as the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile that lit his face.

“Stevie,” he whispered. “I was dreamin’ ‘bout you.”

Steve leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I always dream of you,” he said softly, then kissed the tip of his nose. “Always have,” he added, kissing Bucky’s lips. “Always will.” Bucky kissed back, smiling into the kiss as his hands reached for Steve, sliding over his hip bones and tugging, drawing him closer, closer still, to where their groins were nearly flush against each other. Close, but not touching. But the heat rising between them was unmistakable, unstoppable. Bucky hummed, and kissed Steve again.

Steve’s own hands found purchase on Bucky’s waist and in his hair, where his fingers combed through the snarls gently but steadily. His hand on Bucky’s waist slid up his side to rest over his pec, over his heart.

“You’re okay,” Steve said with a little gasp. “You’re here and you’re okay.”

“I am, punk,” Bucky agreed with a soft chuckle. “You saved me, baby. I’m here, and I’m yours.”

“Not me. It was a team effort. But I ain’t gonna share. But yeah, you’re mine. You’re mine, d’ya hear me, Buck? _Mine_ ,” Steve practically growled, and Bucky hummed his pleasure over that as their lips crashed together again.

Steve let his hand move downward, tracing the muscles of Bucky’s chest, his abs, his stomach, finally coming to rest at the edge of the waist of Bucky’s sleep pants. As Steve’s fingers toyed with the fabric, Bucky stilled on an indrawn breath. “Steve?” he said softly.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked, equally softly. “Is this okay to try, Buck?”

“More’n’okay,” Bucky answered once again, pressing his lips against Steve’s again. “I’m yours, baby. _All yours_.”

“And I ain’t never lettin’ you go again, Buck. You’n’me. You’n’me –“

“’Til the end of the line. I know, baby. I know.” There were tears in Bucky’s voice as he wrapped his hand around the nape of Steve’s neck and pulled him close, in a bruising kiss as Steve’s fingers dipped under the waistband to stroke the soft skin of Bucky’s abdomen until his fingertips just brushed the silky flesh of Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s hips jerked forward as he gasped at the contact. “Been a while, baby. Don’t worry if I don’t last long.”

“Doesn’t matter how long. Matters who with,” Steve said, covering Bucky’s mouth with his own, and his cock with his hand. Steve had finally found his way below the belt, finally let himself, let Bucky, have what they both had long wanted.

Each other, intimately, lovingly, enthusiastically.

&&&

Steve had checked in often, pausing to make Bucky open his eyes and look directly in his, asking if this was okay, if that was okay, if Bucky was okay. Bucky was there every step of the way as he stroked him gently, as he rolled over and grabbed the slick from the bedside table to ease the way as he worshipped Bucky’s cock with his hands. As he slung a leg over Bucky’s hips and straddled him, staring down at the man he loved with dark eyes and pounding heart. As he tugged Bucky’s pants down to release his dick and balls, as he did the same with his, checking in to make sure that Buck was still with him. As he warmed more slick in his hands and spread it across both of their dicks, and took them both in hand, stroking steadily, carefully, perfectly as they shared kisses and breath and sighs of pleasure. As he ground down against Bucky, and Bucky arched up against him, as they found a rhythm uniquely their own in the push and pull, and slide and glide, and breathe and pant, and kiss and lick and suck and kiss again. As the heat built and built and built and crested and boiled and burned and exploded, leaving them both to cascade back to earth on the wafting air like ash dancing on the breeze.

As he slid to the side to cuddle against Bucky for a moment, breathing in the scent of him, nuzzling against his neck, his collar bone, his ear. As he rolled over once more to grab some wipes from his bedside table, to clean them both up, Bucky first, then him. As he tucked Bucky back in his sleep pants, himself in his, and tossed the wipes onto the floor by the bed. He paused to grab one more thing from the bedside table, then snuggled down in the bed, holding Bucky close, and sharing breath as their bodies reconciled their new reality, the reality that they could touch, and reach, and pleasure each other, as intimacy settled over them like a gossamer veil. As breaths stilled, as hearts quieted, as bodies came to rest, they were subtly changed. No longer Steve, and Bucky. They were SteveandBucky, and the world felt different, more … home. 

Bucky’s hand ran up and down Steve’s arm slowly. Savoring his nearness, the softness of his skin, the warmth that poured off him. He was lying on his back, a soft chuckle underlying his voice. “That was … that was so much better than I ever expected. I love you, pal,” he announced breathlessly, turning his head to drop a kiss on Steve’s hairline. “Where’d that come from?”

“Realized I almost lost you. Waitin’ any longer is just plain stupid.”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky chuckled a little louder.

“So I don’t wanna wait any more,” Steve added, drawing his arm out from under the covers and placing a box in the center of Bucky’s chest.

Bucky was silent, his chuckles stilled as he stared at the box.

And stared at it some more.

And then stared even more.

“Buck?” Steve finally prompted in a small, frightened voice.

“Steve?” Bucky answered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Open it. Find out.”

Bucky swallowed hard and nodded, then snaked his hands out from under the warmth under the covers. His hands shook as he reached for the box, lifted it, and paused before he opened it to reveal a beautiful and old-fashioned cut of a diamond ring. His hand flew to his mouth as he stifled a sob.

“Was Ma’s. I was plannin’ t’give it t’you on Christmas. But dammit, Buck, I wanna marry you _on_ Christmas.”

Bucky continued to stare at the ring in his hand, tears flowing down his cheeks into his hair.

“Buck? You okay? Say somethin’, huh?”

“You gonna ask me? You gonna use the actual fucking words, punk?”

“Fuck yeah, I will. James Buchanan Barnes, will you do me the honor of being my lawfully wedded husband? Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yeah, I will,” he agreed, holding the ring box out to Steve so he could take the ring out and put it on Bucky’s finger. “I still got Ma’s. I don’t go anywhere without it. It’s in my things – I’ll give it to you later?” Bucky asked, shifting so he could rest his head on Steve’s shoulder while he held up his hands admiring the ring. Steve nodded, then pulled Bucky back into a breathless kiss. 

When they came up for air again, Steve said, “So, I figure we can ask Jarvis if he can help us get into town to get the license tomorrow. Ride with Bert or something. Or maybe use the Hummer Tony has stored in the garage.”

“I ain’t driving tomorrow.”

“Pretty sure you’re not cleared to drive yet, and yeah, I don’t want you to drive, either. I’m sure one of the Howlies would be willing to drive us. Or my old team. Thor, maybe. Like driving a tank, huh? So if we get our license tomorrow, we can get married on Christmas day. And Dum Dum can finally do the service for real. Whadya think?”

“I think I wish Becca was here,” Bucky said softly. “But otherwise, it sounds perfect, punk.”

“Talked to Becca, Jarvis, and Tony earlier. She’s on her way, and Tony and Jarvis will make sure she gets here. We got everybody here. And this time … this time I’m ready. For anything that comes our way, baby.”

With whispers of, “I love you,” between them, they kissed again, and kept kissing until they fell asleep again, wrapped in each other’s arms, the way they were supposed to be.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure there are those among you who are disappointed the smut wasn't more explicit, but it just didn't feel right. It's an important step in their relationship, but I just didn't feel like it should be a play by play of every touch and sigh. When I pulled out what I'd started to write, and substituted the less explicit version, it felt right.
> 
> So, major advance for Team Steve and Bucky ... :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	8. O, Holy Night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the new day dawns on a world changed overnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd thought I was going to finish up the story with this chapter, but this was a perfect spot to break. I'm gonna miss these two dorks when this is done. I imagine I'll have to check in on them again some time. :)

Steve woke up a couple more times, each at two to three hour intervals to check on Bucky. Bucky being awake at the same time as Steve led to kissing, which led to touching, which led to exploring, which led to stroking, and stroking always led to satisfaction, more kissing, dozing, and finally sleep again. By the time daylight filtered brightly through the spattering of snow frozen against the window panes, both boys were pleasantly boneless, relaxed, and wrapped inexorably around each other, finally secure in the fact that they each wanted the other, now knew they could have each other, and that the only thing they really had to look forward to was their future together.

Cocooned under their covers, Steve laid a little propped up on pillows, Bucky resting back to chest on top of him, his ridiculous bedhead lolling against Steve’s shoulder as he wound their fingers in and around each other like he was trying to knit them together into a single whole. Steve smiled against his hair, wishing he could run his fingers through the tangles, smooth out the soft strands and pet Bucky like the cat he knew him to be. But he was enjoying the sensation of his fiancé’s fingers twining with his, massaging the knuckles, and tracing the whorls of his finger pads with the tips of his fingers. 

It was such simple touch, innocent, curious, soft, like a child might do with its parent’s hand, and yet it felt so intimate, so charged with possibility.

Then Bucky lifted his hand to his lips, and gently kissed the tip of each one, left, then right hand, until he sighed in contentment, wrapped both of his hands around Steve’s right hand, and settled back comfortably against Steve’s shoulder, seemingly melting right into Steve’s body.

Steve felt oddly cherished, worshipped by the attention Bucky paid to his fingers.

“You have beautiful hands,” Bucky said softly, raising the joined hands again to ghost his lips over the knuckles this time. “I love your hands. Artist’s hands. Hands that create.”

“Well, I am a professional artist, Buck,” Steve agreed with a breathless little chuckle .

“Yeah, but … I’m glad Fury grounded you. These hands shouldn’t be in battle. They should be doing arty things. Creating beauty. Bringing you joy,” he added, uncurling the fingers of Steve’s right hand to flatten it over his chest, over his heart. “Feel that? You bring me joy, Steve. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy,” Bucky whispered, a small but impassioned voice as he settled his hand above Steve’s, spreading his fingers to slide between Steve’s, his warm palm pressing Steve’s hand into his chest, into his heart, as he lifted the other one back to his lips to press kisses to the knuckles.

Simple, chaste, loving.

And unbelievably hot.

And damn if all this attention wasn’t getting the attention of something else. 

After all they’d done together during the night, the myriad ways they’d touched each other, etched ecstasy into each other’s skin, brought each other to breathless heights … well, he’d thought himself fully spent.

But the simple act of Bucky holding his hand, kissing his knuckles, his heart beating against the palm of his hand, was enough. Enough that Bucky must know that Steve was becoming very, _very_ interested.

And yeah. One last kiss to his knuckles, and then Bucky held their hands against his chest and wriggled against Steve’s body, the cleft of his ass capturing the thickness of Steve’s hardening cock and applying just the right pressure. He hummed to himself as he teased Steve, the little shit.

The sensation of Bucky’s clothed ass grinding down on Steve’s swelling cock was not something he could or would ignore. It felt too good, and it was too blatant an invitation … to more. More of what they should have been doing all this time. More of what he wanted. More of what they would have, their future together.

“One more time before we face the masses?” Bucky asked suggestively, his voice pitched low and gravelly, a sound so sexy, Steve felt himself chub up even more, a zing of arousal shooting through his groin.

“One more time,” Steve agreed turning his head to capture Bucky’s earlobe between his teeth, where he pulled it, nibbling not quite gently. “Then shower, clothes, food, and _license_. I wanna marry the fuck out of you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky let go of Steve’s hands then, rolling over in the curl of his arm to press an urgent, open-mouthed kiss against Steve’s lips. “Take me, I’m yours, baby,” he breathed, sliding his arms around Steve’s body to draw him even closer, pressing his groin down against Steve’s and slotting his thigh between Steve’s legs. Steve groaned into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it hungrily.

“God, Buck –“

“Don’t mind me, Master Steven!” Both of them froze, eyes widening as they stopped, suspended. “Mrs. Jarvis thought it was time you and Master James refueled, as it were,” Jarvis announced from Steve’s common area. “If you’d be sure to be decent, I should be happy to serve you both brunch, sirs.”

Bucky grinned and dropped his head so his forehead brushed against Steve’s. “What the actual fuck, Steve? Jarvis serves you breakfast in bed?” Bucky giggled. “I can’t compete with that, babydoll.”

Steve smoothed his hands down Bucky’s back and squeezed his ass, massaging the soft skin and sumptuous flesh there. “I’m pretty sure it has less to do with me, and more to do with a certain gorgeous guy who’s recovering from a nearly fucking dying in the snow.” He smacked Bucky’s ass sharply, earning him a hiss of pleasure. “But Ana’s food is a religious experience – we don’t wanna miss this.”

“What, you sayin’ Mrs. J’s cooking is better than sex? With me?” To emphasize the question, Bucky rotated his hips sensually, letting his half-hard dick drag invitingly over Steve’s.

Steve looked up at him, lips pressed together consideringly.

“Seriously?”

“Have you _tried_ her eggs benedict?”

“Fine. You owe me a blow job,” Bucky agreed huffily, un-straddling Steve’s hips to flop down next to him. “And it better be good.”

Steve’s head whipped toward him, his eyes dark as his mouth worked soundlessly.

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry – ‘m’movin’ too fast. We don’t have to do that – you don’t have to –“

“I wanna. Buck, I really, _really_ wanna. God, to get my mouth on you … but … fuck, I’m hungry. Hey, how about this – double or nothin’. After one bite of Ana’s breakfast, if you don’t agree it’s the best you ever had, I’ll suck you off _and_ eat you out. You agree, you do me.”

Bucky wriggled in bed, pressing himself back against the pillow, giggling. “I’ll do you anytime, babe. Listen to us – 24 hours ago, we’d never done anything more than kiss. Now we’re a coupla sex monsters.” He rolled over and kissed Steve quickly on the tip of his nose. “Feed me now, do me later. Got a robe I can borrow?”

&&&

Bucky and Steve, both clad in terrycloth robes (Steve’s festooned with Minions, Bucky’s with kittens) stumbled out of the master bedroom to find Jarvis standing by the dining table laden with multiple steaming dishes and two place settings, a coffee pot, and two pitchers of fruit juices. He looked up at them both and smiled, “Ah, gentlemen. Nice to see you up and about. And may I say, Master James, you are looking much better than the last time I saw you?”

“You may say, J, _Bucky_. How many times?”

“Give it up, Buck. Edwin has his own way of doing things – you ain’t gonna change ‘im now,” Steve chuckled, walking to the dining area of his suite, grinning broadly.

“Quite right,” Jarvis agreed with a smug smile on his face. He pulled out the chair closest to him, and nodded toward Bucky. “If you please, Master _James_?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an invalid, I know,” Bucky grumbled.

“Hardly, Master James. You are an honored guest. And Mrs. Jarvis is intent on both fattening you up, and ensuring a swift and thorough recovery. Eat up, now – you don’t want to get on the wrong side of Mrs. Jarvis, now, do you?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, and both shook their heads simultaneously like chastened school boys.

Jarvis was quite pleased with himself, and waited silently while the boys filled their plates. He poured their coffee, and pressed glasses of fresh-squeezed juice on them as well.

“You don’t have to wait on us, Jarvis,” Steve pointed out, shoving a forkful of eggs benedict into his mouth, the thick, savory hollandaise sauce dribbling down his chin. Steve groaned with pleasure over the delicious dish, while Bucky reached over and caught the blob with his thumb, swiping it off Steve’s skin and offering the sauce-laden thumb to Steve to lick off. Without thinking, Steve flicked his tongue out to capture the sauce and lave over Bucky’s thumb. 

The sudden and intimate nature of the gesture wasn’t lost on either of them as they stared at each other in silent wonder, frozen in a moment of recognition.

Jarvis’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline and his smug smile grew into a genuinely pleased grin. “So that’s how it is at last, eh, boys? Well, as Master Tony would say, ‘about fucking time’.”

“I, uh –“ Steve stammered, while Bucky was only slightly more eloquent with, “We, uh –“

“It’s all right, boys. I won’t spill the beans until you’re ready. Just be aware that Mr. Dugan won the pool. Dr. Cho recused herself, claiming that, as your physician, she might have inside information.”

“Just what did they bet on?” Bucky choked out.

“The specific moment – and I am quoting Master Tony here – where ‘Steve finally pulled his head out of his ass long enough to get to first base with Barnes’,” he said in a rough approximation of Tony’s inflection and tone. “I assume from your dishevelment that at least some form of base acquisition occurred last night? Or perhaps this morning? Or perhaps more than once?”

Bucky blushed and ducked his head, grabbing his juice glass to chug some down. Steve, in the meantime, was choking slightly, and Jarvis moved to pat him gently on the back. Bucky took a deep breath, and plunged in, “Well, I’m not really sure what base we got to, but yeah. I’d say Stevie finally got his head out of his ass. And I for one am very happy with the results. So how did Dugan win?”

“He bet that Master Steven wouldn’t let another night go by without finally showing you how much he loved you,” Jarvis replied soberly. “He said that almost losing someone like we nearly lost you is the smack upside the head that Master Steven has been sorely missing.”

“Pretty sure he didn’t say it quite that nicely. Aw, what the hell. Let Dugan have his win. He’ll be in a good mood, and he won’t complain about taking us into town,” Steve grinned, shoveling a heaping fork full of gooey eggs benedict into his mouth.

“Take you into town? Why I’d be honored,” Jarvis replied, straightening as though snapping to attention. “Where is it you gentlemen would like to go?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances. Jarvis knew how to be discreet. They’d have half a chance at secrecy if Jarvis were their driver.

It only took that glance to decide them, their silent communication back in good form and working perfectly.

Once Steve explained what they wanted, with insertions by Bucky, Jarvis stood there looking at them both, beaming. 

“Mrs. Jarvis will accompany us, of course,” he announced, nodding his head decisively.

“No, wait, we don’t wanna make a big deal –“

“Our Christmas celebration will be truly blessed. And Mrs. Jarvis will want to serve something extra special in honor of the occasion. You don’t want to deny her that pleasure, boys. You really don’t.”

“No, we really, _really_ don’t,” Bucky agreed, nodding along with Jarvis, and Steve soon joined in.

“Well, that’s settled, then. Finish up, lads, and get yourselves dressed. We’ll need to be on the road no later than thirteen-hundred hours in order to give you time to do your business at City Hall. Mrs. Jarvis will no doubt require a sortie to the florist and the butcher shop. Now, eat up, boys! You’re going to need your strength to keep up with Mrs. Jarvis! Chop-chop!”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there is only one chapter left. It will be a happy one.


	9. Hosanna in the Highest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ana Jarvis in charge, there isn't anything that can't be done.
> 
> Instant wedding of the century? Not a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are at last. Funny, I have several different versions of weddings in my WIP queue, but this is the first one I've actually finished and posted. I hope you enjoy it. I know I enjoyed writing Christmas in the middle of July ...

Jarvis quietly put the word out among his cronies regarding the excursion into town, so that when they were ready to venture out, the roadway was clear all the way into town, and just in case, they were escorted by the guys who’d helped rescue Bucky. The cover story was that Steve and Bucky wanted to express their thanks to the gang, which meant that Joe joined them on the trip. Mrs. Jarvis went along to supervise the shenanigans. No one questioned the cover story, and since Mrs. Jarvis left a collation of cold lunch dishes for everyone to sample in her absence, all tempers were present and accounted for in the most satisfactory way.

The first port of call was City Hall, where Jarvis had already greased the wheels so that the clerk was waiting for them with the appropriate paperwork ready to be completed. A mere twenty minutes later, and their application was submitted, and the clerk – Oona Kindsvatter, one of Mrs. Jarvis’s friends in the Ladies Martial Arts Club – promised that they’d have their license in time for a Christmas wedding. Ana smiled brightly, and slid across a beribboned box of homemade Christmas cookies baked from her carefully curated collection of traditional international recipes. Her friend beamed, and promised to have the license ready by noon on Christmas Eve. Especially if she could deliver it personally and sample a bit of Ana’s homemade hooch. The deal was struck.

Once the license was secured, Ana dragged the boys to the village’s art and jewelry shop, a lovely boutique where her friend Alan Trainer was the artist in residence. She explained what was needed, and how quickly she expected it to be delivered. Alan listened in awestruck silence, while Steve and Bucky simply gulped in unison, and Edwin smiled benignly. Joe looked on fondly, if a bit glazedly.

“Mrs. J, it’s Christmas week,” Alan protested, waving toward his near-empty display case.

“And that’s a concern why, Alan?” she demanded archly, giving him one of her patented glares.

“There’s not enough ti –“ he stumbled, and suddenly Bucky leapt into the breach.

“Y’know, I’m sorry Mrs. J, but I don’t want a fancy ring. I want something simple, sleek. Something that carries meaning for Steve and me. Alan, a plain band. Could you have it engraved by Christmas?”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a grateful sigh.

“But I want –“ Ana began to protest, and Edwin stepped in to rest his hands gently on her upper arms.

“Darling, the boys should pick out their own wedding bands, don’t you think? They’re the one’s who’ll have to wear them, after all.”

“Well, I suppose …” she demurred hesitantly. Her stance made it clear she was still in the fight, and then Steve spoke up.

“I know gold is typical for wedding bands. But I really like that one,” he said, pointing to a plain silver band in the showcase. Bucky’s fingers closed over his as his fiancé smiled at him.

“Me, too. Can you do that, Alan?”

The artist looked at the two men staring at each other, besotted, and he grinned. “By Christmas eve. Tell me what you want engraved,” he prompted as he pulled out the tray of simple rings so the two men could find the right fit. 

The boys seemed so pleased with their choices, even Ana had to give in with a smile. In the end, what they chose was just perfect for them.

&&&

Next, Ana had a lengthy list of items she would require in order to properly see the boys off into matrimony. All protests were cheerfully ignored, and the boys – Edwin, Joe, and Steve – found themselves being pressganged into service to fetch and carry as she sweetly barked out orders. In deference to Bucky’s condition, he was put in charge of packing the van, a task that wouldn’t require bending over too far, or heavy lifting. There was no way that Ana was going to risk Bucky falling over, or overtaxing himself. He protested, and she told him that if he was really feeling guilty, once he was cleared by the doctors, she’d be happy to work him to the bone. He laughed out loud and said he wouldn’t complain anymore. She muttered that she wasn’t joking.

The fruits of their labors were loaded into the van, with items requiring refrigeration remanded to the ice-filled coolers Ana had made the boys fill earlier. Finally, when she was satisfied that everything was secure and ready for prep, she announced that they could proceed to the bar to meet up with the rescue team to enjoy their thank you lunch. Mrs. Jarvis, however, elected to remain within the town limits, to enjoy lunch at the diner on Main Street with her friend, the local florist. There was more work to be done, and she really didn’t consider the boys necessary for this step. Steve started to weakly protest that it was his wedding after all, and she simply leveled him with an upraised eyebrow. That was sufficient to silence any further complaint. Jarvis patted his shoulder in commiseration, and led him off to the bar, leaving Mrs. Jarvis to pursue plans for the wedding in her own way. Resistance really was futile, after all.

So now they found themselves around the big table at the back of the bar, right in front of the door where Jarvis and Joe would disappear for their poker games. Jarvis, Joe, Henry, Ralph, Ernie and his partner Bert – they were all there, crowded around the table with Steve and Bucky.

“You’re looking good for someone who almost bought the farm the other night, Barnes,” Ralph, the EMT, noted. “Mrs. J’s taking good care of you. Helen, too, I suppose. And I’m guessin’ this one, too,” he hooked a thumb at Steve and grinned.

Bucky glanced at Steve and blushed, nodding.

“That’s good. Important to have a support system after an ordeal like that. So, getting married,” he added, nodding sagely, eyeing the boys expectantly.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded sappily, reaching over and grasping Bucky’s hand in his. “I finally got my head out of my ass.”

“Yeah, near-death experiences and – need I say – daring rescues’ll do that to a fella,” agreed Ernie, his eyebrows raised in Steve’s general direction.

Joe coughed and hid a chuckle behind his hand.

Bucky let his head fall forward and chuckled behind a curtain of his hair.

“What?” Steve blurted, looking around him in confusion.

Bucky lifted his head and looked around, his eyes twinkling. Then his gaze rested on Jarvis. “You tell us, J. Will Mrs. J approve?”

“Whole-heartedly, Sergeant Barnes,” Jarvis agreed emphatically.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Bucky agreed with a grin.

“Huh?”

“They’re angling for a wedding invitation, you idiot. So, you’re all invited, but you don’t breathe a word to anyone – we’re springing this as a surprise for our meddling friends, right?”

&&&

By hook, crook, miracle, and Mrs. Jarvis’s implacable resolve, Christmas Eve dawned clear and cold with all the players securely in place. 

Leslye and Denise had been cajoled back to the manor to assist with holiday preparations, and Ana had even pressed some of the Ladies of Martial Arts into service. With the lodge pretty much full with Tony and Steve’s friends, and now the only remaining member of Bucky’s family, it was generally assumed that the extra staff was a result of the extra work. Which led most of the guests to offer their assistance as well. 

Ana Jarvis was in her element, marshalling resources, parceling out intelligence, and generally having a grand old time mounting what was for her, the campaign of a lifetime. 

Quite simply, she’d missed this sort of thing.

She loved living out here with Mr. Jarvis, keeping the place up, and entertaining Master Tony on the odd whim that wafted him here. She adored caring for Steve, and by extension Bucky, and hoped they planned to remain. She didn’t want the old place to grow empty again. She was happy in their little village, with her friends and clubs. But she missed the hustle, the bustle, the sheer adrenalin of putting together an Event, whether tactical, political, or social.

And the wedding of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was going to be nothing less than an Event that everyone present would remember for the rest of their lives.

Oona had arrived at noon, as promised, with the license. Ana had spirited it away into her inner sanctum, where she also stored the wedding flowers delivered by her friend Garland, the rings she’d confiscated from Alan as soon as he’d arrived, and the champagne she’d selected from the cellar, cooling on ice and ready to be brought out once the nuptials were sanctified.

The manor was tastefully decorated with fresh greens and antique ornaments, splashes of silver and blue, green and red, garlands of cranberries and popcorn that would be repurposed outdoors to feed the birds. Live trees in large pots were decorated with multi-faceted blown glass ornaments, explosions of tinsel, and hand-lit candles clipped to branches in little silver candleholders.

Fires danced merrily in the fireplaces throughout the manor, and velvet stockings hung from silver pegs on each mantle.

Once everything was in its place, everyone had retired to their rooms to clean up and change into their holiday finery. And now the house was abuzz with conversation, laughter, friendship, and love. The way a house should be, especially one so large as this. 

She settled in her seat for a moment, just enjoying the sense of vitality that spun around her. 

The door to her office opened quietly, and Edwin slipped in with a smile.

“You look rather pleased with yourself, my love,” he commented, resting his back against the door and observing her fondly.

“That I am, Mr. Jarvis. I do believe we have done it.”

“You, my sweet. _You_ have done it. And I have no doubt Masters Steven and Bucky are grateful for your deft hand, and your loving heart.”

“Just a few more hours now. We’ve never had a wedding here before. It’s long overdue.”

“That it is, my love. Now, come – let’s see how things are progressing!” she rose from her seat and took his proffered arm to go back out to the house at large to observe their handiwork.

There was no way to separate groom from groom and keep the wedding a secret, so Steve and Bucky simply didn’t try. They circulated among the guests like everyone else, among what was becoming a veritable throng as more and more of Mrs. Jarvis’s friends cashed in on her promises of Christmas eve cheer in exchange for services and kindnesses in aid of the Rogers-Barnes wedding plans. Every last one of them had been sworn to secrecy, lest they face the wrath of Ana Jarvis, and all seemed content to remain silent and enjoy the bounty of a soiree a la Ana.

Crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her fingers against her bicep, Ana smiled serenely. Then she noticed a gap in the arrangement of food, and frowning, she went off in search of one of the town girls.

&&&

A never ending array of food and drink seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaving no serving area unprovisioned as the afternoon wore into the evening, as dusk fell and the moon reflected softly on the crusty mounds of snow that blanketed the property. A tiny gap appeared on one of the serving tables, and Ana swirled into action, commanding one of her minions to fill it immediately with plates of delicious food.

Tony sipped appreciatively from a flute of champagne, listening with half an ear as Bruce explained his latest breakthrough in an admittedly truly fascinating discipline, but something was bothering Tony. Something niggling, buzzing just below the range of human hearing. He smiled at Bruce and made his apologies as soon as he spied Jarvis carrying yet another tray of food out from Ana’s domain. He sidled up behind his old friend as he arranged the tower of treats.

“Big turnout, J,” 

“Yes, well, you know how Mrs. Jarvis likes to entertain, Master Tony,” Jarvis replied smoothly without looking up from his careful arrangement.

“Uh-huh. So you folks normally invite the whole town out to drink my wine cellar dry.”

“Your father’s cellar, Master Tony. You haven’t added a single bottle since 1991.”

“Okay, yeah, Dad’s wine cellar. Not yours, though, J,” Tony pointed out with a chuckle.

“If you read the terms of your father’s will, Master Tony, you’ll note otherwise,” Jarvis answered with a sniff and an arched eyebrow of doom.

“Fair enough. Yeah. He did leave you the contents of the wine cellar. But is this an annual thing, the entire population of the village waiting for Santa Claus here in the old pile?”

“Not the entire population. Just Mrs. Jarvis’s friends, and a few of mine. We couldn’t not invite the kind folks who helped save Mr. Barnes. If you visited at Christmas more often, Master Tony, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I would. I just didn’t think to do it before Steve moved up here. Now he’s here …”

“The house is more alive. I know. Mrs. Jarvis and I very much enjoy having him here. Perhaps you’ll find it in you to visit more often. The house feels like it’s come back to life when you are here, after all. And with everyone right now … well, it’s all quite energizing.”

“So. You’re not gonna tell me. Not a peep, not a clue? Not a breadcrumb in the forest to guide me home?”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Master Tony. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to assist Mrs. Jarvis in plating the _foie gras_.”

&&&

It was Bucky’s wedding day.

Elsewhere in the house, all the guests had arrived, most of them unaware that the day had finally dawned. Only J and Mrs. J, her friend Oona, Alan the silversmith, Bert, Ernie, and Joe. Garland the florist. Mrs. J’s friends from her martial arts club. 

None of his friends, or even Becca, knew that they were about to be treated to an impromptu – as impromptu as Mrs. J would allow – wedding. Not even Dugan, who’d be officiating. Or Connie, who’d stand for him. Or Sam, who’d be standing for –

“You still can’t do a Windsor knot,” Steve chuckled, batting Bucky’s hands away from his tie to take over organizing his tie.

“Don’t need to. Got you to do it for me,” Bucky smiled at Steve, reaching up to lift an errant strand of hair away from his forehead. 

“I could teach you. Make you self-sufficient. Then you won’t need me.”

“I’ll always need you, Steve. Don’t ever doubt it.” Bucky let his hands drop to Steve’s waist, drawing him closer so that he could press his forehead against Steve’s, tilting his face so he could taste the mint on Steve’s breath. “What do I have to do to convince you that I’m here, I’m staying, I’m yours?”

“Marry me,” Steve whispered urgently, his hands moving from Bucky’s tie to curl around his shoulders, his neck, to pull Bucky’s lips against his. “Marry the fuck out of me.”

“Try’n stop me, baby,” Bucky swore, diving in to kiss his fiancé deeply, passionately, thoroughly.

&&&

“Sir, if I might have a word?” Edwin Jarvis whispered softly to Tim Dugan, and when the big man nodded, he led him off to an alcove to speak with him privately. Jarvis was careful to select a spot where no one would be able to see Dugan jump up and down, fist-pumping enthusiastically. Once Jarvis had him calmed down, he exacted a promise of secrecy, but only after Jarvis agreed that Dugan would have “the boys” break out their instruments so they could offer musical accompaniment.

With the officiant secured, Jarvis then sought out Connie Rocco and Sam Wilson, and brought them to Ana’s office so she could organize their role in the festivities. Once Ana was satisfied with their promises, she released them back into the wild of the party.

At about 10:30, the Howling Commandos had their equipment set up in one of the larger rooms where guests were milling around the ever-replenishing buffet table. In another age, it might have been called a ballroom. As it was, there was plenty of floor space for people to get up and dance, and dance they did. Connie managed to convince Joe to have a go, and Sam just had to tip his head and smile at Natasha to get her up on her feet. Pepper looked on excitedly and dragged Tony out on the floor. Soon the room was full of dancing revelers. Phil Coulson made a courtly bow to Becca Barnes, and the pair of them made a handsome couple boogying to the Commandos.

No one really noticed that Steve and Bucky were absent. They’d had to start all over again to get ready for the wedding, kisses having quickly given way to touching, and touching to … well. At least dry cleaning wasn’t necessary, since they’d both shed their wedding duds before doing the deed. 

But at 11:45, they were perfectly turned out when the descended the broad staircase, hand in hand, grinning like fools. Their descent was visible from the ballroom, and at a nod from Jarvis, Dugan held his hand up for a moment, leaned in to the gang, and whispered new instructions. He was met by muttered discussion, a swear or four, and finally a drum flourish as the dancers on the floor stuttered to a halt, looking around the room in confusion. Another beat of silence, and the band took up the familiar strains of the Wedding March a la Commandos. As one, all the occupants of the room turned toward the massive double doors, and the sight of the two tuxedoed men holding hands beneath the mistletoe.

Connie broke away from the throng first, walked up to Bucky and offered her arm; he took it with a happy smile, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Sam followed suit, grinning as he crooked his arm for Steve to take it delicately. Then the four of them walked abreast toward the band, their footsteps in perfect time to the music.

Off to the side, Ana Jarvis held an embroidered handkerchief to her face, while beside her, Edwin Jarvis just let the tears fall. He was an ugly crier, so Ana shook her head, dug another handkerchief out of her pocket, and shoved it at Edwin. He nodded his thanks through his tears, and covered half his face with the handkerchief.

The foursome had crossed the room, and now stood a few feet away from the band. Dugan put down his guitar and patted the air so the band would take the volume down. They switched to another piece of music then, a quiet instrumental of _I Will Always Love You_. Dugan stepped forward, dragging one of the mike stands with him, and announced, “Dearly beloved, they’re really doing it for real this time! You fuckers finally got your acts together, and now you’re gonna be legal!”

&&&

While Dugan delivered the bombast, Steve and Bucky followed up with the heartfelt. Their vows were unrehearsed, and maybe a little sloppy, a little sappy, but everyone was a little misty-eyed by the end of it. Pepper Potts gave Tony Stark absolute star-eyes, and he pretty much returned the favor, while Sam and Natasha competed with each other for who caught the bouquets – because both men each threw a bouquet to the waiting combatants. The band went back to work, belting out a fervent rendition of _At Last_ for Steve and Bucky’s first dance as a married couple. Then they each pulled their favorite lady out of the audience for their next dance, Bucky with Becca, Steve with Peggy. Halfway through, the ladies swapped out to dance with each other, and Steve and Bucky were back in each other’s arms again, where they stayed for the rest of the night.

The reception bled deep into Christmas day, and was still going strong as the sun rose, staining the snow with shades of red, orange, and yellow. Congratulations were shared, Dugan collected his money, and Tony bowed before Ana and Edwin, congratulating them for throwing the wedding of the century while keeping it a secret from him and everyone else. Then he quietly asked if they could do it again in June, because he was finally going to ask Pepper to marry him. He was assured that their wedding would be every bit as fine as Steve and Bucky’s, and Ana informed him that she’d send him the arrangements by e-mail within a week or two.

At last, everyone moved into the ballroom with the biggest Christmas tree, a veritable mountain of gifts arrayed beneath it. Tony volunteered to hand out gifts, but there were so many people, it ended up being Tony, Jarvis, Steve, and Bucky. There was a gift there for every person at the party, even Leslye and Denise, and no one felt left out or slighted. By the time the sun was fully up in the sky, energies were flagging, and Ana and Edwin started directing people to guest rooms, if they didn’t already have a room assigned. Ana announced that brunch would be served at noon, but everyone was welcome to take a plate or two of leftover party food to their room, in case they felt hungry before then. 

Tony grabbed a bottle of champagne while he let Pepper pile up a couple of plates with goodies, and with a thumb’s up over his shoulder to Edwin and Ana, he followed her to the master suite where they always stayed when they were at the manor.

Steve and Bucky followed suit, snagging a bottle, a couple of glasses, and a couple of heaping plates of savories and sweets from Ana’s groaning tables of food. They booked it up to Steve’s suite, and once they were inside, Bucky pressed his back against the door, flicking the lock home.

“So. Husband,” he greeted with a seductive grin.

“Husband,” Steve repeated with a wide, cheek-busting smile. “I like the sound of that.”

“Everything was perfect,” Bucky said, pushing off from the door to sashay across the room toward Steve, the champagne bottle in one hand, and the glasses in the other. He was ever so slightly tipsy, and his walk was perhaps more compromised than he’d planned, but it didn’t matter. Steve was waiting for him when he stopped. Steve took the bottle and glasses out of Bucky’s hands, and put them on a nearby table. Then he just stared at him for a long moment before he pulled him into a kiss that seemed to go on for years.

“You’re perfect,” Steve whispered against his lips when they broke for air. “We really did it. We really got married,” he giggled, and Bucky had to laugh, too.

“We’re finally where we belong, baby. Together.”

“Not quite where we belong,” Steve answered, glancing meaningfully toward the bedroom.

Bucky linked their left hands and brought them to his lips, where he placed kisses on their matching rings. “Wherever you are, that’s where I belong, baby.” He held Steve’s hand against his lips, and kissed Steve’s ring reverently. “I’m with you –“

Steve pressed his thumb against Bucky’s ring, and recited the engraving inside, “Til the end of the line.”

They stumbled toward the bedroom, hands entwined, eyes locked, their world narrowed down to just they two. “A line with no end, no beginning. Just you and me.”

“The way we were always meant to be.“

Together at last. And last they would.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, our tale comes to a close. I've enjoyed writing these boys, and hope you've enjoyed reading them as well. A comment or two would be a lovely way to wrap up this series.
> 
> Have you checked out my Cap RBB stories yet? If not, go, read, let me know what you think. It was my first experience doing a reverse bang, and oh, what an incredible experience it was. I've already signed up for next year. I did drop out of the Stucky Big Bang, though. Which is how I've been able to work on this instead! 
> 
> Check out
> 
>   * [The New Cold War](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10918617) \- inspired by the art of Orithe 
>   * [Sepia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11365284) \- inspired by the art of Cryo_Bucky 
> 

> 
> And hey, August 1, 2017, I'm starting a Patreon. I'll include discussions of my fic, development of my art, design of my Pops, sculptures, and more. Patron rewards will range from access to images of finished works, to input to designs, to earning custom Pops.
> 
> Pass it on. I'm ridiculously excited about the possibilities! I'll post the link here when it goes live.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos give me life, and let me know I'm going in the right direction. I am truly blessed with the best readers in the known universe and beyond.


End file.
